Magma flows, the dragon hisses
Goblins laugh, horsemen die.
It rains blood and fire
In the golden halls of food and drink.
Death leaves no mark of honor
On craftsmen and children
Lumberjacks and gold miners
Farmers and healers.
I watch in exquisite agony
the digital destruction raging upon my city.
The next update includes rape.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem