"Our beauty lies in the land of utter hell."
A kingly blanket will coat all green
bleaching the land with a freezing certainty.
Someday all will be keen
on appraising the silent renewal of nature.
Rusted metal and crusty earth
are buried in mounds of white.
Raise it high. High as it can go.
Chimes ring out as the world breathes.
She whips in the wind like the hair of a siren,
like the flames that burn in our ancestors' hearts.
She stands as a beacon of hope
in the land of desolate hopelessness.
Dirtied hands show
the blackness of hearts.
Ropes snap and crumble,
releasing the sun-stained fabric.
Tarnished and torn is the flag this day,
spread with dirt and hateful words.
Beneath their feet our beauty lies
in the land of utter hell.
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