Lamentations toward a virtue lost, or at least dwindling to nothing. Pure heart in this one, so don't check me for grammar and punctuation. I want it to sound this way.
O thy honor, and the honor of all, why you crumble?
You who used to leap from the heart of near any a young man.
You who founded our country, you who held our hearts so high.
Yet now you hide... sickened within your abyssal hole.
Harnessing steelish strength and presenting yourself a virtue.
Protecting our names, forcing straight our spines.
Spines that would have otherwise broken under much duress,
Much duress indeed with a nation's burden.
A fairy tale you are, perhaps? I hear of you occasionally.
Egypt forces honor even now. Banging the walls of unloved leaders.
The honor stands strong amidst the water, and rubber projectiles of hell's own production.
But alas, still it is so far away.
Swim closer, distant ship... you bear my hopes.
For now we listen dutifully without your presence. They lead us.
We shall listen, and hearken to their call, however deep...
the wake of cows feces in the room builds.
O thy honor, and the honor of all, are you wounded?
Are the reserves empty, and the wells dry? Are the townsfolk...
Crying, begging, bleeding for a cause that doesn't come?
O thy honor, did you just turn and run?