Random poem, probably best not to ask.

Broken steel, and slaughtered flesh,

Smell of rot, yet corpse is fresh,

Blood stains the ground, and screams are near,

There’s something out there you must fear.

 

Beast with eyes like broken glass,

Prophesy has come to pass.

Beast serves him with several names,

Must banish it from whence it came.

 

Sword of blood and axe of pain,

Tools of hell he must obtain.

Holy men have stood no chance,

This man’s choice was happenstance.

When the beast lies, crushed and dead,

A new hell forms in his stead.

 

You may wonder how I know,

That we shall reap what we will sow.

Now this vision you will share,

For when the world ends, I’ll be there.

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