They march in the morning,
the evening,
and the night as well.
Wearing all black
with an animal skull
and a flag.
What is it they see?
In this world so ugly.
They come back everyday,
Each day much different.
I'm a pattern so old
With a desire so bold.
They're the bad and the evil
But they say that's not true.
They stomp and they march.
Past the guards of the dark.
Into gates that lead nowhere.
With time in their hands.
They're marching nowhere.
But at the same time,
Everywhere.
YOU ARE READING
Poems
Poetry"The universe kissed the stars, who birthed a galaxy of new beginnings." The only way to express beautiful and cynical thoughts is through the delightful invention of simple, and yet complex, poetry. My poems never end, have no defined theme and st...
