Swamps and fire,
forests and seas,
plains tapped to cast a ward of green,
As Gods we fight to be the winning hand,
destroying creatures destroying land.
With nettling imps and poisonous lure,
we'll wipe out your board while frozen in fear,
With evil presence we howl from beyond
The damage done our opponents gone.
Onto the next battle we fight,
against creatures and demons gifted with flight.
The bog imp the ghost ship
the vampire and his bite.
The Serra Angel, the seaserpent with an enchantment of flight.
On and on we wage our wars
until our host chaos closes the doors.
Red of the Keldon
Green of the wurm,
White of the righteousness the lightning burn.
As we play our hands and the spells are cast,
It's Magic the Gathering reaping past.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem