I gaze upon the ageless blight
Entrenched in cyclopean foil
A race once of natural right
With a fate set now but to toil
Skin rotting from their very bones
Myrmidons of eternal hate
No life left in their minds homes
Horrid hunger ever their fate
Wandering endless o’er the scape
Of a land entombed in sorrow
Our vision of futures shape
Gone, dead before any morrow
As Legions of dead find our door
We fight on through the deepest night
Waging war on deamonic ichor
For mankind to restore its lost might