All Along The Watchtower
Keeping pace, we gaze out across the Land, looking for untoward signs and signals. Ever watchful, there is no rest for the weary, but sooner or later, weariness does indeed, set in. Shifting attention, we strive to stay awake, but of course that would mean that we have already fallen. Comrades in arms, we tend to bolster one another looking forward to the days which end. In dreary disregard, our safety is not an issue.
Mindless chatter falls upon the wicked and in seeking it's revenge, we succumb. Is there really a way out?
High in the parapets, the scout proclaims it's arrival, and yet as we look out upon the Land, we see it not. Perhaps our eyes, once again, deceive us. Perhaps what it is we hear floating upon the air is nothing but our own voices, echoing to ourselves from somewhere deep inside. Somewhere we dare not look.
Guarding ourselves to the hilt, no one shall stand in our way. Friends or foe, it matters not when it comes to self-protection. We must survive at all costs. And so, 'survive' is what we do and continue to do, true to form. Never straying far from our image, we continue to explore new worlds, raising our banners on high. For every action there is an opposite, equal, reaction. Falling prey, we are hunted voraciously.
Yes, we must survive.