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div class="Ct" strongConnor walked the battle field as thunder rumbles and rain falls. The blood shed is soon washed away, cleaning the mutilated corpses as the few left living search for their dead. The bodies taken note of and letters prepared to be sent to their families. The rain does it's best to erase the devastation from the face of the land, mixing gunpowder, blood and mud all together. Hiding the evidence of the horrors that had occurred just hours ago. The dark heavy grey clouds roll across the sky, tears falling, sharing the sorrows of the land. The grass bows with sympathy towards the lost. The winds caresses and comforts all it passes, giving its silent regards. In the distance an eagle screeches as it circles high above, a symbol of freedom. A sign of the colonists persistence and determination. The men whose heads were hung low look to the majestic bird, a single ray of light breaks through the cloud coverage, it gently strikes the white of the eagle's rain soaked feathers, giving it an unearthly glow./strong/div
div class="Ct"br /strong Connor looked to the sky and raise the flag he held tightly in his grasp. The eagle screeches once more, circling above him, looking down upon the battle worn earth. The eagle's cry fills him with a sense of determination. It's cry one of war. As the troops continue on pushing back the British, he raise that flag higher, giving out his own war cry. The wind gave the damp material aid, it blew proudly in the wind. The red and white stripes easily seen against the dark muddy earth. The soldiers near him gave their own war cry, uplifting the spirits of the troops behind them and raising the morale of the ones before them./strong/div
div class="Ct"br /strong The British soldiers stopped in their approach, a look of confusion swept over them. The Patriots ran forward, guns ready, bayonets drinking in the blood of their enemies. Tasting the crimson that flowed like a river through the beastly regulars that hindered their freedom. Each man gave his cry of triumph with each successful kill. A thrill ran through the men. Where as not even moments ago many contemplated retreat or surrender, now they charged forth, wave of blue against a sea of red and they depleted the British, striking down one soldier after another./strong/div
div class="Ct"br /strong The flag flying high, perched securely upon a hill giving order to it's people. Giving strength and courage to all who peer at it. It is forever a symbol of this country's stubborn Americans. A sign of our undeniable perseverance./strong/div
div class="Ct"br /strong The Patriots continue their fight, using all of their strength to push back until soon all we saw was the backs of those red coats as they fled for safety. All along the patriot lines, their were cries of triumph as another battle was won./strong/div
/div
div class="Ct" strongConnor walked the battle field as thunder rumbles and rain falls. The blood shed is soon washed away, cleaning the mutilated corpses as the few left living search for their dead. The bodies taken note of and letters prepared to be sent to their families. The rain does it's best to erase the devastation from the face of the land, mixing gunpowder, blood and mud all together. Hiding the evidence of the horrors that had occurred just hours ago. The dark heavy grey clouds roll across the sky, tears falling, sharing the sorrows of the land. The grass bows with sympathy towards the lost. The winds caresses and comforts all it passes, giving its silent regards. In the distance an eagle screeches as it circles high above, a symbol of freedom. A sign of the colonists persistence and determination. The men whose heads were hung low look to the majestic bird, a single ray of light breaks through the cloud coverage, it gently strikes the white of the eagle's rain soaked feathers, giving it an unearthly glow./strong/div
div class="Ct"br /strong Connor looked to the sky and raise the flag he held tightly in his grasp. The eagle screeches once more, circling above him, looking down upon the battle worn earth. The eagle's cry fills him with a sense of determination. It's cry one of war. As the troops continue on pushing back the British, he raise that flag higher, giving out his own war cry. The wind gave the damp material aid, it blew proudly in the wind. The red and white stripes easily seen against the dark muddy earth. The soldiers near him gave their own war cry, uplifting the spirits of the troops behind them and raising the morale of the ones before them./strong/div
div class="Ct"br /strong The British soldiers stopped in their approach, a look of confusion swept over them. The Patriots ran forward, guns ready, bayonets drinking in the blood of their enemies. Tasting the crimson that flowed like a river through the beastly regulars that hindered their freedom. Each man gave his cry of triumph with each successful kill. A thrill ran through the men. Where as not even moments ago many contemplated retreat or surrender, now they charged forth, wave of blue against a sea of red and they depleted the British, striking down one soldier after another./strong/div
div class="Ct"br /strong The flag flying high, perched securely upon a hill giving order to it's people. Giving strength and courage to all who peer at it. It is forever a symbol of this country's stubborn Americans. A sign of our undeniable perseverance./strong/div
div class="Ct"br /strong The Patriots continue their fight, using all of their strength to push back until soon all we saw was the backs of those red coats as they fled for safety. All along the patriot lines, their were cries of triumph as another battle was won./strong/div
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