What is our flag,
tis skin and bones,
that rests beneath
some marble stone,

or unmarked site
in hallowed ground
where no life
can be found.

Knights and warriors
they became,
a piece of cloth
bespoke their name,

as carried high
into the fight
while held aloft
day and night.

Moans like the wind
fell on deaf ears,
and fallen flags
brought countless tears,

for all that once
brought boundless glory,
upon our land
the final story,

now plays out
in bitter ways
that mock the memory
of those days.

May you always fly
where mortals see,
the heart of you
that makes us free.

Let no man diminish
your rightful place,
you our flag
for the human race.

Men cannot bring you
to your knees who
care not who rests
beneath the trees.

You will live on
as other brag
of the swift demise
of our honored flag.

In our hearts may
you ever wave,
from our homes
and from our graves.

Let all men shout
and tell the world
of you our flag
now unfurled,

within the soul
of mortal men,
may you always
ripple in the wind.