12. Vaults

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Our cheering, it echoed.

The vict'ry was ours.

Their smiling and grinning, forced caution; and doubt.

Too late we then heard it, the metal it creaked.

We did win the battle; a lost war then reaped.

It left us with fear, with dread, and with doom.

These bastards destroyed our; prized vaults filled with coom.

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