Out of the dark
Devoid of all speakable decency
A wickedness now is arisen
Delivering sizable helpings of chaos
Hordes of heathens
Filled to the brim with negative temperament
Insipid insidious with an intent
On destruction and overall mayhem
No moral fiber nothing but thoughts
Of displeasuring everything
Unleashing an unfriendly
Inimical force on all that they encounter
Only one being in all of
Creation may offer reprieve
And answer the beckoning call he will
Between the episodes of sword lords
This force of dark will make your day suck
In their quest to seek the helm
Menacing mischief and
Merciless manifestations of miscreants
Made from malaise inflicting malevolence
Wreckage and ruin with utterly
No shred of traceable conscience
The bitterly cold gale of tyrannical power
Can only be met by the blade of
A hero who currently may or may not
Be entombed in a bubble of squirtable cheese