I turn my head to see a multitude of lifeless beings walking with no direction.
They hardly notice their surroundings as they march, expressionless, monotone.
They feel nothing. They say nothing. They have no mouths.
Instead, they have scarred tissue where it once would lay for them to speak freely.
Their freedom has been ripped from them and torn from their faces, their hearts gouged out.
I can't help but ask myself, are these people the living dead or a figment of my imagination?
And then I realize, I am one of them.