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Of Tallmage.

Seduced me out
of silence with your bland,
name-brand stupidity.

Had it far passed
up to here.

No one gave
freedom to me.
It was already
there for us all.

Not taken, not given:
intrinsic.

You speak of recognition in ink,
defense and blood spilled in war
— and for the very
thing you would like to take
away from me,
calling my use
an abuse, a shameful thing.

Call it
pissing on my ancestry,
dead leader
of the Culper Ring.

Fight for flags, never rise
up to fight
for what they were meant
to wave for.

And I’m the dishonorable one?

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