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They align by the crimson sea
Darken flags sail through the whites of eyes
Garnish trophies, status amongst the elites
Batting an eye to those inferior
Muscles twitch, limbs intense
Ethos of winning
Along side the pathos of a vermin
Forever, fortune swept with the crimson
23 beyond a trap
The 105,000 army stands tall to hail the victor
Weeping, sweeping for the vicious kill
Nevermore, the field still waits