Almost Lucid.
Part Two
At the close of her last syllable a tone sounds to signify the end and the countless men ill-made to decipher a mother’s lullaby remain lost and listless and without prescription divided by plots drawn by themselves.
Foot-soldiers of the purgatory state orphans hold the conviction they are amputate and do not see the body is divisible as a multitude is a collection of ones.
If only they dared they could hold arms together their sights are trained solely on the distance between figures behind ahead blind to spot they are identical as tombstones of the military dead.
Toward something introduced into the bloodstream with a cleaner tune and a fresher heartbeat they stare as cows do at the approach of a stranger and ponder what will this specimen do will it reinforce the borders or leave the gates open unblinking their bulbs bloom with the same dread and wonder that dawns in the eyes of a father who greets his new-born only to realise this birth equates to death the time of the old guard is over their replacements have arrived.
Thanks for reading, you can check out part one through my profile below :)