And in time, the shell of Earth

Continues to rattle with war



Dead world under a dead sky

Nothing here worth fighting for



Five point four billion years

of unending battle and siege



Unrelenting and immortal

Triumph remains out of reach



All the horizon is filled with an eye

which watches, unblinking and red

Swollen, distended, the giant grows larger

and brushes the exosphere's edge



The two last things in the world,

so consumed with the fight, fail to notice the sun

has eclipsed all the sky with its solar flares skirling

Earth's final hour has come



War wages on



The corpse lord, the Lich King

grows weary at last of the game



Grasps the nature of stalemate

Victory cannot be claimed



The Nucleomancer

too young to be bored with the bout



Goes on, unthinking,

Not knowing his enemy's doubt



The King forms an idea while the

fireballs burst and the acid rays sing through the air

A lateral plan for a straightforward monster,

foe must remain unaware



Waiting for a fury from the solar storm

He will take wounds and seem to fall

And, once seeming defeat