---

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 defeated, will melt

off and find the true way to destroy every thing,

one and all

The sun, dying

The land, cracked

The living, long vanquished

The sky, black

The storm thunders

The fire descends

The foe, unmindful

The King will now transcend

One final volley