And this recite with pride that all may hear
That one platoon against an entire horde
Has come out wounded yet has kept the flag
Unfurled triumphant o’er a hundred swords.
Is victory worth all the blood and death
of rivals blameless and unverified,
sufferers like us not of sword but whim,
of might and power, greed or selfish pride.
Somehow I feel a qualm defining what
A hard-fought flag should, should not signify.
Yet empty conquests often tell me that
Our raised cups are attempts to dignify
This pointless act that we are so proud of,
An act of hatred or fear, not of love.
"“Alam ko na how long it would take for us at alam ko ang deployment ng mga snipers pati kung saan nila itinago ‘yung mga armas nila. I already had the complete picture and I knew that would be a long fight. But kung tanungin ninyo ako kung maligaya ako, anak ng… I am also bleeding like you,” - Digong
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