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A clear cut win situation,

Not a facade, nor illusion,

A view widely, obvious to all.

Our strength poured in full,

So we lost all but a bit blood,

As like a pass to paradise.

Upon the eleventh hour mark,

Right unto the final corner hip,

Thought we unfurl a masterclass.

It was all a display of waterloo.

Our songs of victory we keep,

To unmask unto its special day.

©The Scribe