On The Deadly Ground...
...
 So damaged, shouldn't we retreat?
With conjoint'd blood of kiths and I, let's ink it,
I wont rest, still with little touch of life in me,
let's wield our quill before their spiking hilts,
their Persian shant subdue all of our greece.
Against their steel troops our striking blades were so weak,
their fleets would smear our blood on their feets,
some might drink from it, as they've won our grits,
it's too many injured men, we succumb to defeat.
You've won! The victory is yours, we can see,
you welled up well our folks blood, out of deceit,
rearguard we shall safeguard our retreat,
as out of life, many a kith and kin had been dismissed.
....
Out of our throats they got blood spilled,
with brazen swords from sinful coats they killed,
left our kins in cold blood, they spare not our childe,
reds over land, reds on wound'd parts, we're so drilled,
many bleeds, chilly bloods flowing down our street,
the fort with which we multiply forces was levelled to a field,
our very own blood had our sand to fill-
and trails of its sorrowful path accompanied we that lived-
as we trampled on formed bleeds back to our siege.
Dearest home keepers' griev'd on seeing the evil treaty,
they fear'd as it haul'd their fold to thrill,
their habitual faith wont duly oblige to the ill deal.
Staying hither, their ilks envisaged not what we strifed with
when our brethens gore rugged the soil as it sinked so deep.
..
wizard calidad
#BIS

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