Marching Down

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