An invisible column
Of faceless soldiers.
Marching silently,
As if a great spell has been cast upon them.
Stopping only to fire the occasional shot,
Strike down a man who has lived his life
Beholden to their pace,
Their rules,
Their demands.
Moving in perfect,
Endless,
Cold synchronization.
Each step a deafening tick,
At perfect intervals.
Men will try to flee the column,
They always have.
But there is no escape,
It finds us all,
Wipes us from this earth.
It can’t be harnessed,
It won’t be controlled,
It answers no master.
Faceless,
But with a million faces.
What a beautiful thing time is.

i met someone approximately six years ago
he resembles you so much
i thought you were his brother
he thought i cared about him

the year after that, i got to know someone
but i never got to know him fully
at least not until three years after that
he took long to be understood; but he is

then you thought i would stay by your side
i wanted to, but never did
you're taking long to be understood
and when i thought you are, you aren't

so to answer your question,
i have met thousands of your kind
and have met you for the first time twice
but you, sir, still remain a question for me