Darkness.

Darkness rules the land,
skeleton soldiers rise from the grave,
armor rusty and worn,
flesh and clothing decayed.
Foul stench of death,
the wind carries the screams,
of long ago,
releasing it to our ears.
Horrid shrieks and groans,
clanging steel grows louder
the ringing of the metal,
echoing in our heads.
Control of the land,
is wanted.
Win the war,
control the land.
Armor shiny and new,
dented and cut
swords dripping with blood.
Prove another victory,
prove more death.
Skeletons of the fallen men,
rise up and join the ranks,
with the ranks of skeletons.
Dark, unforgiving, hating all,
darkness will fill the land with bodies,
and flood the world with blood.
Foul stench of death,
when darkness rules the land.