creationline

A long black line of people with the same front, Their insides afraid, their minds numb and blunt. With flags that are black with sinister shades, The solemn assembly like a funeral parade. With impending damnation by invisible death, that shall embrace everyone's breath, they hope for the better, for peace times to come, to silence the grave sound of militant drum. They were told not to be scared, but they were instead fully prepared. For they won't go and vanish without any trace, like those with no gas masks placed on their face.