Sprinkled by the trappings
Of words that make the outlines
Blur on the showplace that made history
The folk is willed
To parrot the dished up tale
The lure of a higher meaning

Cheat, you had to create
An enemy stereotype
To retrieve your absolution
forthy poor excuse for your foray
To disengage from the deeps
of your encumbrance

Behold
All our gold
Thousandfold
Bereave me!
Declined [bad word] ensign
Forever mine!
Bereave me!

March in with ten legions
Whilst the [bad word] weapon's not he [bad word] But the feather held in your hand
Penned in blood
Your tall [bad word] the [bad word] Altering it into the battlefield

I, the spectral guise
Evoking these baring fears
Pestering your conscript fathers
I smile at my demise and while I die
I cherish the roots of my perseverance