The Exodus

Think not because you mark the lanes
With a swift sword
That you will claim the lane without a walk

Although men hail you swiftly
Unto the dry skies
But deem not it will clear the part yet to walk

Though you have a handful of vision
With a splash of hope
But what odds when complacency comes 

Although you strike in the bloody dust
Perhaps unafraid
What odds when you strike with a broken blade

Please mark your lanes and haul
With the hasty eyes
Because we could lose the crown if we slide