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A gloating wizard, in his tower

Abandons reason, for boundless power

In his quest, for immortality

He pools his essence, against mortality

A million days, are now his seconds

Memories, now useless knowledge

Now it’s time, to show his power

He will cast, and they will cower!

The fields will rot

Ruled by the Undead Lord

The holy light

Shall not prevail

Flesh terrors, the cultists, will feed on the righteous

Trolls smashing and crafting the bones for their weapons

Torn flesh, recycled, and used for the cauldrons

And so shall the Dark Lord’s will see to it done

Suffocate!

For the Lich!

Scream!

Pathetic weakling!

You can’t destroy the Lich

The tale will end, with nothing left

Not a scrap of gold or humans left to draw their breath

The careless patron will rule the land

Fertile fields, reduced to sand

DIE!!!