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A choking miasma at dawn

Meridian thick with suffocating fog

Through curling grey plume they come

Persevering malevolence from otherworld

Kneeling before the charred remnant

I remove my blade from its sheath

The realm has spewed forth all manner of enemy

And now I know what fate has in store for me

From earthen orifice creatures claw

Salivating at the chance to devour

That which is beautiful in this land

Not without confrontation, not without a final stand

Surrounded now, an ashen wind blows

Morning sun beams through the clouds

My blade glitters, on flesh it feeds

And I may die fighting, but live on in my deeds