From blood and strife the state is born,
Its banners raised, its pledges sworn.
With iron fist, it guards its name,
Through threat of death or prison's claim.

Yet what becomes of law’s sharp blade,
When turned on those it once obeyed?
When justice bends, and rules divide,
We can no more, the state abide.

For violence seeds the ground we tread,
It builds the walls, it shapes the dread.
And when decay begins to spread,
The hand must strike, or all is dead.

A storm is brewing, fierce and wild,
The beast unleashed, no longer mild.
Better to act, with purpose bound,
Than wait for chaos to confound.

For when the fight arrives at last,
The boldest move redeems the past.
The choice is ours, the time is near-
Strike first, with aim precise and clear.