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As solitude neglects the Harbor door the Heavens fill with vengeance from the sky, and all below can only watch them soar for crippled decks were useless to defy. The devastation rendered from the clouds destroyed the birds of war that sat below. They turned to ash beneath the fiery shrouds thus, never to ascend to face their foe. But ‘tis in lore that ‘neath an ebon dust a mighty bird from mere demise ascends. From this day forth survival must entrust this paradigm as disillusion ends. As all the world begins to come apart, from isolation, now you must depart. From isolation now you must depart as all the Earth descends into demise. A despot’s claw has torn the West apart and in the East, the Sun has torched the skies. And once again – “now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country” - as all the world begins to fall into the deepest depths of dire despair. Let fire awake the magnitude within this Giant that pretends to stand alone. It fed the flames of hate that drew it in and now this flailing Phoenix must atone. Your place of solitude is nevermore for apathy has led the world to war. For apathy has led the world to war and all its lands and seas shall face the bane. And such dismay lends reason to implore the universe, itself, to serve disdain. For Hell delivered conflagration’s gift and all of Earth into its pit was thrust, and though the flames set clouds of ash adrift, the mind of man would weaponize the dust. A harbor burns as enemies await reprisal from the dawning of the light, ‘twas mortal err to underestimate the measure of this sleeping Giant’s might. As isolation harbored self-deceit, the Nipon Sun awoke its sleeping fleet. The Nipon Sun awoke its sleeping fleet as isolation’s premise was denied. And dogmatism rallied to its feet to mobilize and face the raging tide. Production roared to meet the mass demand of all the wares that fed a war’s machine. ‘Twas moral pride that steered a wounded land to build its force to face the unforeseen. Though pride instilled a unity of force, ‘twas bigotry that filled a Nation’s heart, for nay all men were equal in its course and those of Nipon blood were set apart. A rising Sun ignites a Nation’s pyre, illuminating bigotry with fire. Illuminating bigotry with fire, a Nation’s light holds taut to poison’s past. ‘Tis but a flaw that tarnishes its spire and stains the many milestones so amassed. It rips the fabric in Old Glory’s wave thus, rendering its beauty ever lost, ‘tis moral sin repentance shall not save for holding to its past at any cost. And though you rise from ‘neath the ash and flame, you harbor still those demons deep within. Your mighty force, built on the backs of shame, may face “This War of Brothers” once again. And as the Phoenix rises from the heat, beneath the ash, its morals face defeat.
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