The Price of Dignity ?

They ask, but none can name the cost, is it weighed in gold or blood?

Does it crumble when the world distorts, or drown within the rising flood?

They walk alike, they speak the same, numbers in a marching line, shaped anew from day to day, as if their souls were not divine.

Yet dignity stands in quiet breath, unbowed beneath the shifting tide, a lantern held in trembling hands, a fire no storm can cast aside.