The Chains of Command

Like shattered glass on the barest of feet.
Walking through a field of pain.
A bloody trail to mark the tracks.

Hallways of cold metal.
Lined with cells of the ignored.
No clue what crimes have happened.
Due process, none.

Guilt, only felt from the weak.
The new.
And the ignorant.

Yet it remains Ethical.
To the barest amount.
No free thought.
Just chains of command.

Between orange and white.
Jumpsuits and lab coats.
They are the same in their eyes.

Expandable for mankind.
With few expected to live.
They are all destined to die.
Some of them painless.
The majority is unlucky.

Hallways of cold metal.
Lined with cells of the dangerous.
A growing hatred.
Blood in the water.

Fear, only felt from the weak.
The new.
And the ignorant.

The ones in orange and white.
Their true difference lies in fake freedom.
Though it matters not.
For they are both the same.

In the eyes at the top of the command.

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