Bloody week
In days of old, a hero’s word was his bond,
For the slightest offense, a life would have been taken; a body was lighter than a feather’s as it falls down,
With a sword that cuts iron worn at his side, in a flash of rage, he kills those in front as he proclaims:
"We’d carve our own flesh to flavor our wine, with laughter that startled both gods and ghosts!
I’d leave by the west gate at dawn, and return with a head in my hand by dusk!
A man falls every three steps; my heart is still, but my hand never stops the harvest of blood!"
The carnage of battles shook heaven and earth, and horrified the courts of the underworld!
The potent bloodlust silenced the world, leaving only the thick stench of blood mingling with a soaring and heroic aura on the battlefield.
As of this moment 4.24B DMG were done by top 10 nation on weekly damage list. That's a lot. Went through some old notes and find this edgy/cringy poem and decided to share. Don't remember the source, i might have added some changed.
PS special hi to GREG