In the night a maelstrom had built of the headland
Raising litter and debris amid a twister of sand
The storm moved sharply inland cutting across the strewn battle field
Through the gully towards the enemy camp, a raging fury that will not yield
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This ground was hard won in the dying light
Our homeland is evacuating as we have this last fight
Our children and loved ones are now safely gone
They will remember these deeds in some ode or some song
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A final huddle at this highest mound
The weighing of weapons, men’s ragged breath the only sound
The night takes flight before the advance of the dawns new light
Thirty men will now stand, for this final unplanned fight
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Born of the warrior race
Brothers shoulder to shoulder, friends back to back, Enemies face to face
Battle lines drawn, the still before the storm
As the light gathers before the coming harm
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The captain returns from the bloodied battle ground
Wiping blood from sword, swift dispatch the wounded found
Cold rations of tack and a shared water flask
The eight hundred enemies will be taken to task
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When this day is done, they can claim that they won
They laid siege to our towns, and ravaged this land, that is the least they have done
The fleet set sail with its cargo of our precious love
It’s time to make peace with the maker above
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The Storms devastation cut a path from the battle ground to the enemy’s camp
The storm rages once more, then abates and the enemy is gone, like snuffing of a lamp
Thirty grown men now on their knees and tears soak the sod
Silence sets in as they view the scene of this timely act of god.
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