From Colorado's peaks to Mexico's sun-drenched plains, A coalition forged, a might that sustains, Florida's strength, a trident in the hand, Against California, a final stand.

The air, a canvas, painted with dread, Whispers of conflict, unspoken, unsaid, A tension hangs heavy, a palpable fear, As the final act of this brutal war draws near.

Then victory's song, a triumphant refrain, Echoes through streets, washing away the pain, A jubilant chorus, a city ablaze, In the fading embers of war's final days.

But beneath the revelry, shadows remain, Of blood spilled freely, a terrible stain, Sweat-soaked brows, etched with the cost of the fight, Tears of sorrow, mingling with the light.

The echoes of battle, a haunting refrain, A testament to loss, a lingering pain, For even in triumph, the scars will endure, A reminder of conflict, forever obscure.

The victory's sweetness, a bittersweet taste, A pyrrhic triumph, a future misplaced, For peace, though achieved, leaves wounds deep inside, A legacy of war, where hope cannot hide.

The streets celebrate, yet hearts bear the weight, Of sacrifices made, sealed by cruel fate, A coalition's triumph, a nation reborn, But the price of freedom, forever forlorn.