Above the burning city

Danced two great butterflies

Fighting for their country’s soul

In the ashen crimson skies

Survivors looked up in horror

Falling to their knees in prayer

While the two great butterflies

Danced their duel in the air

The white one was a soldier

In a battle to survive

The other, crimson red

Did not want him alive

“What do you have to show for yourself? Blood? Gold? A broken throne?”

In the end the skies would be controlled

By a single pilot alone

Both fought with all their might

Above the fire and brimstone

But in the end, the crimson one’s skills

Would not win him this fight

“When thunder is heard, and the storm comes, remember me,” he cried

Those were his final words before the crimson butterfly died

In truth, he was insane, driven mad by his ambition

But he would never see his crooked plans come to fruition

The white one flew away

His greatest foe was conquered

He had done his job well

The Deal would be honored