We march

In the light of day, that came at the third strike

Patterns of our boots etched in the mud

Like twisted leaves, a vortex in the dawn

Takes our breaths with each step

Harmful red lights glinting

Through the broken foliage, the toxic forest

Leaning in by our sides

It can't be long, I say, can't be too long

Shouts come now, from the front of the line

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Through the air and climbing

A mist-bound projectile

Hurtling, defying the atmosphere

Pollution in raindrops, brightening

Traversing ever upward

On this endless marked gaze

The view from the bottom, the tower spire

Stretching

Toward the golden vault

We look and see

The silver beauty

The stone engravings

Blemished with moss, attached and thickening

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