SWORD WARS: The Last Battle. A Poem.

The dogs of war are baying in the sward.
God Almighty, Casuals raise your spattered standard one last time!
For we, the Rejects, will follow to the halls of Hell,
The clash of falchions will split our drums as we rout the scourge called Project SWORD.

Halberds high, our banners eeling in the shine,
This Earth is ours and for the love of it we will break our mortal backs,
So yes, their Scramble Bugs may crush our SpaceX MEVs,
But no Probe Force Fleet shall forsake our World and leave our souls behind.

Woodsy
October 3rd 2014

Further verses of a heroic nature welcomed!