The Army a Poem by Jeremy Matthews

Each they're own blend on the body of war swarms meeting swarms playing the gambit of the country boiling rage to late to disengage. The armies stiffen the body cadaverous of complexion as side by side, killing breeding killing, a storm meeting a storm. The body convulses, nothing repulses anymore and reason is locked away. Suddenly the body is dead, individuality is no more, all that is, is an army now like a dead body in motion, they march to the end, splattering they're own blend on the body of war.