If you had an army and you took it downhill Marching Down the valley from normality toward death trudging the way inexorable descent step by step over stones and bridges that wither over paths that call hither and trees bending in the strong breeze every leaf being drawn away from the light As your army tires and the steep paths guides momentum as they march on breaking bones feet heavy as rocks and heads declined their strength ebbs into the thick air you can see the end of the path is a heavy sink a hole to hell and certain slow death you realise with horror the destiny of this path and call urgent commands to turn and climb at first they protest and say its not for the best but they can not hear or move in any other way they ignore their generals some forgot how to mount their horses they march down into the depths of the valley every step a mark of death making it harder to turn until it consumes them all except the few who listened they climb up and out staring at the sunlight
Nicholas Alexander's Poetry