Inktober V: Build

Shifters toil under the indifferent scorching sun and the cruel whips of men.
Innocent declawed hands are coated with sweat and blood
And are paid in meager rations of food before being sent back to their dens.
That is true of those who have not died in the dam's flood.

Screaming from under the rippling surface, unable to make a true sound
They find that they are finally free and truly unbound
As they are mourned by brethren above for a brief moment
Before being sent back to work, masters soon to forget.

At the end of it all, marble holds the torrential flow
For the simple cost of eighteen lives embedded in the foundation below.
Lauded are the Architects, for they surely had to hone
Their superb talents on this project. But their lives are their own.

The shifters of Adagoh had been told to sacrifice all
While their masters stood on high, on that insurmountable wall.