Abstract armies flagged in white,
Contending with dark vestiges,
Advance and posture break into,
A fearless march to someone's death.

Colour fails in this stark game,
Played out in agonising thought:
In every blink ten million years,
In every year ten million blinks.

There is no blood in this foul war,
No mortal men or fiend-stung troops,
No blades or cries beneath fanfare,
But humble stones and empty space.

A hollow world untamed and deathly sparse,
An illquiped will untamed and deathly sparse.

Assembled with the mighty men,
Godly men who love whats good,
Arrayed in youth to grey and in-between,
Cascade of generations of this time,
To break a fast but rather to be met
With friendship and community.

Tapping out the things I've done,
The things I am,
The things I've become

Colours for the lovely words,
Coloured shapes for empty space,

He's brought me here,
To this here place,
To be more like Him and run the race.