A Battalion Marches On

Long after the unsettled ground repairs a garden,

there lays the man whose heart will render

a soft cry for freedom beyond a torturous plague,

yet all around the soil is rich with the blood

spilled in dirt absorbent and capable of an act,

a magic, a machine like endurance of life.

 

Inside the humanity of time is resilience spoken

for we are always alone until then found

we become an iconic reminder of time stand still

await the next calling when distraction will

be far more beyond an outlier in retrospect of him.

He wills the people to embrace shallow merit.

 

Actually the speaker has crossed the line once (twice)

the memory selective tries with difficulty to pass

make allowance for human frailty and join the dance

to suggest we are all part of the same fight,

the battle, the armageddon of authority in plain view

while the handler leaves the building, back entry.

 

Oh, the ground swell of memory in its nostalgic robe

would might only become loudest when life does probe.

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