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𝐀  πƒπžπœπ₯𝐒𝐧𝐞  πšπ§π  π…πšπ₯π₯

Has died, a potent symbol of the past.

A relic of an Empire gone to dust.

But men, like mighty nations, cannot last,

For cursed time consumes the good and just.

The heads are bowed; the flags fly at half mast.

Britannia’s shield and trident turn to rust.

β€” D.N. O’Brien