The Line

Unseen he travels, softly gliding
Stallion nearing, death be riding
A silent scream flies on the breeze
But none shall hear my mournful pleas
I run through teeming lifeless mass
Bloodied feet torn on shards of glass
Ten thousand blank expressionless faces
Walk rank and file in darkened places
Their myriad souls stand here collected
Each embraced with none rejected
Searching out tormented thought
He finds me, caring for me nought
Then granite cold upon my shoulder
His hand alights, I grow no older
Eternal darkness shall be mine
Thus fall in step and join the line..