France I

The emptiness is left with no resolve for all the stars in Heaven have maligned. Your God has let morality devolve into the darkest days of humankind. A war to end all wars has spawned revenge, the madness seeks to dominate the sphere. Insanity has reckoned on a binge, relentless in its quest to persevere. Your sons deploy to front the roaring wind that pummeled Polish walls into debris. Alliance rears with honor to defend, for Gallic might has heard your doleful plea. ‘Tis destiny a vengeance would unveil from hence the war where trust in treaties quail. From hence the war where trust in treaties quail, vendetta churns its magnitude of sin. His war machine will equal it in scale as terror’s domination spurns within. The battle’s front lies just beyond the wall that shields you from his devastating wrath. And all the rage of hellfire will befall upon those souls that dare to trek its path. But dare be damned when strategy is fleet, it causes grand design to go awry. Your fortress walls face nothing but defeat for arrogance intends to pass it by. The fires of war are left with no resolve thus, from its ashes, vile regimes evolve. Thus, from the ashes, vile regimes evolve to sate a void and seed a hungry wave. A pulpit rage lets common sense dissolve as propaganda feeds us what we crave. ‘Tis mere illusion seeking out a pawn with fabricated anguish and reprise. ‘Tis but a tactic hate is built upon with promise of salvation as its guise. Such promises are built upon deceit that mock the tide he claims to represent, but demagogues shall not obscure conceit from moral hearts with ethical intent. His merciless intentions will unveil as all the world stands by to watch us fail. As all the world stands by to watch us fail your Gallic braves invade a despot’s soil. And into Belgium, gallant sons assail to front the retribution in this broil. Your forces hailed to charge the iron awe then seize advantage from a pressing foe, and if denied, dear France could never fall for nothing will defeat the Maginot. But iron might rolled o’er your roaring tide and forced your taut battalions to retreat. His covet rage was not to be denied for in his mind all Europe ‘waits defeat. A vengeful voice, with vision, shall revise your Nation’s dream, once altered by demise. Your Nation’s dream, once altered by demise, fell victim to the solace days of peace. The greatest war had darkened Gallic skies and negligence let innovation cease. A callow faith would lead you to believe a tranquil League could hold peace in accord, but once again ineptness would deceive as consequence commenced to hail its sword. But allied trust in treaties was not frayed for coalition fed the battle’s fire. Though British might allied your French brigade, ‘twas nay enough to stall Germanic ire. When obsolescence falters in the row, let hope rely upon your Maginot.