Thunder rolling over head Hunching over the deary man said "Everything is a lie"
Delirious from a modern revelation Effecting his push to move on Among the many weary from thought The thought of the millions of piles He is allowed to stand upon
"Oh god what are their names, dear god please tell" For the foundation is built, upon the blood we till
All while the cycle repeats
Hundreds of millions of individuals we pile high Uttering senseless words in a unifying cry "May I always be alone in this mass" "Belonging to a useless lower class" "Love me always for I endured" "Every hardships to try to keep pure"
"My god how many are there" the dreary man asked Anonymous characters looked at him from the past Never tainted by the words of history
It has been freaking me out recently how little we will accomplish in our lives or can. Our lives are so short and fragile, so we really have to jump at every opportunity we get to do something. Billions of people have been forgotten, and the numbers grows everyday. Sailors, priests, bakers, farmers, soldiers even kings have been completely forgotten. I will too someday and thats scary but also humbling and we should respect them, the millions lost to time...