Colors Fade
With every war man has waged,
the countless banners he displays.
You cannot kill mankind's will,
his bombs, bullets, or blades.
It's his will to die seeing his prided flags wave,
fear not the sorrow his death may bring.
All the dead men's colors,
live to fight and see another day.
Descendent banners gladly raise,
and his kin like fools still cling,
to that which must, and will fade away.
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