a compressed life placed in a shrinking space

line up and wait patiently. time is irrelevant now. this is the march that transcends borders, an indiscriminate procession that only requires the breath in your lungs. some limp wounded, some stumble blind. some are brave and walk alone. some claim to see through the clouds and some jostle to lead the parade. some run fearlessly to the edge, some dig their heals into the soft soil. i am only a passenger on this spinning merry-go-round. for now i walk on its back but soon i will be under its skin. nothing will be left but the evidence that i was anything but invincible. the end result is all the same. the sky may fall but it will never rust.