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Swords are glistening in the winter sun
which were forged on the anvil of spite.
Turbid reflections are craving for vengeance.
An idyllic shroud of snow is trampled
down by scorching hooves.
Behind visors there are glowing resolved eyes.
Screams are hurtling through the fields,
on which they are embattling for the slaughter.
The horde is poised for the final assault.
Horns are announcing the declaration
of a war which should last until all is erased.
Banners of the only true dark force should waft
on the lances on which the impaled fallen surrender.
Fight for your kingdom.
Fight for your dominion.
Subdue those undeserving ones
to relieve from the chains of slavery.
