The papers of the poet prince
Survived despite the palace fire
That crisped and burned his ancestry
So ornate on the tapestry
That spanned the wall behind the throne.

The papers of the poet prince
Survived despite the hungry goats
Unleashed into the library
By hired ninjas sent to end
The living and their history.

The papers of the poet prince
Survived despite the rushing blood
From jabs and slashes on his skin
That soaked his purple sokutai
But not the leather pouch within.

Or maybe someone clever ran
Some propaganda marketing.