Wrapping itself in favor of many.
Tapping its tag to a shield paper.
Remembering the times of forgotten tales, 
Behold, it's a newcommer of sinners.

To which we owe nothing.
Too thousandths drowning.
Two dozen roses sent,
upon a draft worth defending.

It saves gold, silver and plenty.
Plates of steel, wraths made greedy.
Forks may stab the wounded,
but forteresses stand tall with an enemy.

Clueless foretold
what clueless begun.
Hearts stumble upon thunder,
sheets folded for blunder.

It's no wonder why mysterious make history.
A joke told by millions down a string,
forms laughing stocks around we sing.
Lies become books, 
theifs begin their whistles.
Pockets become cowarders,
dwindled down to their last dollar.

Seas roar their bolts
as lands destroy,
to take back what was once theirs,
and settle in to tell their story.
A cycle of generations to remember this battle.
One that never ends,
not even while in slumber.