Marching on into unknown territory I try to comfort my troubled soul by singing a homeland song. The journey is specific and trodden alone, The path chose,chosen unsure, Foes despise and fears arise But still,the march is on. Like a blind man lost in a maze of thorns, Only in the march abreast and headstrong A slip or fall can end it all we shuffle together timidly holding on. The march neither friendly nor kind, Damp clouds and gloomy skies, Only the spec of light in your eyes And the will in your heart. Helps you trod along. kyalo.