Your RAG OF SOULS begins to soak in the BLOOD OF THE FALLEN. You suppose it could be poetic?

No, instead you think it is just sad.

You were very foolish to believe you could be a leader of men. Look at what bearing that flag has wrought.

Perhaps one day you will find something new to bear. A burden befitting of the peasant you truly are.

Oh my what's that shiny thing in the water.

> John: Prepare for flight.