Dressed in armour, riding a steed,
weapons in hand, they march with speed,
to conquer lands, for and unknown,
a ragged crowd, yet warriors of renown
They strike with fury, they **** with rage,
the greatest plague, to fall our age,
they raze the cities, destroy the crop,
they keep in business, a coroner’s shop.
Wild, uncouth, dressed in skins,
they play their games, with the head’s of kings,
short and squat, ugly to see,
on the point of a sword, they extoll their fee.
They are angels, riding from Hades,
smeared with blood, from their raids,
they shoot their arrows, with lightning speed,
they have no dearth, of grotesque deed,
of pale skin and slanting eyes,
they have the strength to darken the skies

Descended from him, the evil one,
they inspire fear, they blot out the sun,
they **** without mercy, they loot and plunder,
their arrival announced by fiery thunder,

They are from far, a distant land,
where all you see, is barren sand,
used to misery, living in dearth,
in multitudes of hordes, they overrun the earth.

These demons, creatures of doom,
spinning away, in a massive loom,
knitting a web, to ensnare humanity,
having no concept of mercy or pity,
eating flesh, feasting on blood,
they scour the earth, like a massive flood

These men, of barren sands,
of toughened body, and calloused hands,
striking fear, inspiring horror,
in conquered lands, hoisting their banner,
far and wide, much as I search,
I fail to find such warriors on earth.