There were 17 people walking in a line
desperate to leave behind
to leave behind what they can't rewind.
They fell away into what,
they fell right back, back into what
they tried to hide and never find:
everything they can't rewind.
There were 17 people walking in a line
the pit smiled as it swallowed their kind.
their echoing words were consumed:
their echoing words fell to vacuum.
The 17 never knew they had worked so hard.
fighting for shovels each other they marred.
the whole goal for the hole was to wright their story,
consumed by their nature, thrashing for glory.
There were 17 people walking in a line
in single file they drone and find
the death they carved and left behind:
the pit they dug and can't rewind.
There was fell joy in the ground,
there was fell joy as the pit came down,
covered their bodies consumed their souls
their strive for glory lost control.
The pit smiled, so sublime,
because 17 people had walked in a line.
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