Hundreds lay dead and plaster the wet cobblestone of the haunted city There are no streetlights but the full moon on this chilling Decembers night. Silence all around nothing but the cry of crows and the rumble of the deads chariot ...The brave lie broken on the field of fate, where once justice was sought...With pride our legions fought and with raging anger, our armies clashed with the forces of light... A grim sight, as bodies paint a dark picture unto the hillside...at last, triumph at Armageddon...renewal is at hand...
cobblestone, plaster, clashed, streetlight, hillside