And in time, the shell of Earth Continues to rattle with war Dead world under a dead sky Nothing here worth fighting for Five point four billion years Of unending battle and siege Unrelenting and immortal Triumph remains out of reach All the horizon is filled with an eye Which watches, unblinking and red Swollen, distended, the giant grows larger And brushes the exosphere's edge The two last things in the world, So consumed with the fight, fail to notice the sun Has eclipsed all the sky with its solar flares skirling Earth's final hour has come War wages on The corpse lord, the Lich King Grows weary at last of the game Grasps the nature of stalemate Victory cannot be claimed The Nucleomancer Too young to be bored with the bout Goes on, unthinking, Not knowing his enemy's doubt The King forms an idea while the Fireballs burst and the acid rays sing through the air A lateral plan for a straightforward monster, Foe must remain unaware Waiting for a fury from the solar storm He will take wounds and seem to fall And, once seeming defeat