THE MARCH

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.

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