counting cost

Folder: 
reworked vintage

 

"counting cost"

 

 

When the final note fades,

we do not break formation.

We remain in the freeze frame

that follows any ritual

performed with care.

 

The banner lowers.

The field empties.

And I understand, at last,

 

that the charade he named

was never the march itself

— only the belief

that those who walked

were hiding something.

 

We walk because we must.

We intone their vow

because someone must remember

what it costs to not.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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