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1. Part I

2. Part II

3. Part III

4. Part IV

5. Part V

6. Part VI

7. Part VII

8. Part VIII

Part I

Your treachery
And deceit
Cannot be concealed,
And your vassals
Their backs on you.

You have led them
To defeat
Too many times
You have bartered
Their lives
For gold.

There will come a time
When your death
Is celebrated,
And we will swear
An oath
To a new King.

To a new King!

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Part II

These are the last days
Before the final battle.
These are the last words
To be spoken:
The order to charge
From the dying captain.

One shot rings out,
And it is over.
The last man standing
Joins his fallen comrades.

Like an eye the sun is plucked
From the heavens.
All is still and pure,
Waiting to be reborn.
A harvest sown by blood,
And reaped by swords.

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Part III

Do not forget why we are here today.
Do not forget the reason we fight!
They have attacked us where we live,
They have broken our bones and burnt our houses.
They've sent our sons off to die
And murdered our elders in their sleep.
They sought to destroy us.
Wounds will heal, but we do not forget.
We can rebuild, but our minds still burn.
Now, with God as our witness, we will settle our debt.
They will remember us, after tonight.
For generations to come, they will remember us.
They will remember.

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Part IV

It is not you we mourn.
We do not mourn at the graves of heroes,
Brought low at their moment of triumph.
We do not mourn when betrayed by those once trusted
At the time of greatest need.
Neither do we mourn when our faith is tested
And shown inadequate in every respect,
Nor when rallying cries are unheard
Deflected by the din of apathy.
No, it is not you we mourn,
But rather heroism itself,
Faith itself,
Loyalty itself,
Courage itself,
Blood itself.

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Part V

Everyone is an enemy:
Daggers hidden in their sleeves,
Poison on their lips,
Betrayal in their minds.

See it in their eyes.
Words meant to assuage,
Caresses to console,
Deception and lies.
Words meant to convince.
Intention impure.

The plan is to slide
A dagger through your ribs,
And then keep on walking
Like nothing's happened.

Waiting for you to die,
Watching for the first sign
Of weakness, when you forget
Just for an instant
That everyone's an enemy.
Everyone's an enemy.

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Part VI

All men dream,
But not equally.
Those who dream by night
In the dusty recesses of their mind
Wake in the day to find
That it was vanity:
But the dreamers of the day
Are dangerous men,
For they may act their dream with open eyes,
To make it possible.
This I did.

— TE Lawrence

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Part VII

Certain things I remember with such clarity:
Like being held under water by a group of older boys
So long I thought I was going to die.
The thing is, no-one else remembers.

Never return.

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It is colder now.
Black soot blankets the sun,
As snow blankets the mountains.
The Earth is buried.

Frozen faces peer from forests stripped of green;
Their lives are empty husks.
Stillness pervades and the only sound is a final exhalation,
A last gasp as the fires burn down, give up,
And realise the futility of continuing.

The footprints of soldiers fill with drifting snow.
What little is left of their struggle vanishes.
Their ranks once straight and marching ever onward
Are now broken; their path leads nowhere
Except deeper beneath the frozen wastes.

Deeper — the Earth is cooling,
The sun is going out.
But here, in the underground vaults,
In the graves of our memories,
A lone flame gutters and waits.

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