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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Dark · #1862351
Inspiration - "Sir, we're surrounded!" "Good, now we can attack in all directions."
We're loading up the cannons
Not to mention lled by madmen
Now we have been surrounded
All alarms are sounded

Though the odds are 5:1
We're gonna take them on
I know that death has come but
I refuse to run

I know I've breathed my last
All thoughts are on the past
"How did I end up here?"
I keep repeating

The end has come
Now I am done
The dirge of my demise now sung
The Reaper's scythe is razor-sharp
Death's Harvest has begun

The enemy approach
Much like a band of ghosts
We try to fight them off but
They creep closer

Now we are face to face
With the harbinger of fate
We know he's hunted us and
Now he has us

The end has come
Now I am done
The dirge of my demise now sung
The Reaper's scythe is razor-sharp
Death's Harvest has begun

We try in vain to flee
To escape our destiny
Our foe's have shadowed us and
Here they slay us

Now only ten remain
And they've all gone insane
And the Harvest recommenced
They die in vain

The end has come
Now I am done
The dirge of my demise now sung
The Reaper's scythe is razor-sharp
Death's Harvest has begun
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