Warcraft poetry

3C scenery, lich ice peak, Wan Li snow, looking at the inside and outside of the wolf's den, and I am boundless, the river rises and falls, I have lost the surging, dancing with the bull's head in the mountains. I want to compete with the hills, and it must be sunny, especially enchanting to watch death wither. Warcraft is so fascinating that countless players are competing to bend over. I also cherish the blood wizard, but my literary talent is a little lost. The wizard is a bit coquettish and a genius.

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Cemetery landscape

A thousand miles of evil wind

Wan Li ghost floating

Lordaeron continent

Boundless bones

Up and down the blood river

All the endless waves are out of sight.

wizard

Terror banshee

Want to compete with hell?

every day

Wrapped in a silver bag

Especially "devil" Rao.

There are so many heroes

It has attracted countless players to bend over.

Cherish the death knight

No eyes

Dread Lord

It tastes so ashamed (it will spoil the bees)

A generation of meat shield

Crypt Lord

Just call it a beetle.

These roles are gone.

Take stock of the coolest heroes

Look at the lich

The scenery of Warcraft is frozen for thousands of miles, and the throne of Wan Li looks at VS, which is more than enough inside and outside. BN lost the mountain dance up and down. Agkistrodon used to run like wax. If you want to compete with SKY, you must see GG's results tomorrow. So many enchanting witches have attracted countless heroes to bow down, cherish the memory of the prophet's solution and lose their literary talent. Demon blade master is not so coquettish. Arthas (Death Knight) only knows how to wrap and shoot eagles.

Countless romantic figures in the past are still watching the present.

I walked gently.

When I came softly

I knocked on the keyboard.

Win one game after another.

The Oracle of the Orcs

This is a circus clown.

A group of lovely dogs

But it is chilling.

The wind rides in mid-air

Sneaking around in the sky

In the cry of the enemy

Happy wandering

The one who walked on the wind.

Not the blade master, but the hand of the dead god.

Right between these swings.

No one lives.

Surrender? I persuade you by typing.

This is all you can do.

Full of humiliation

Crying in endless helplessness

But you didn't give up.

Quietly doing the final killing.

God is silent for you, too

Scold you secretly. You are really a pig.

I left quietly.

Just as I came quietly

I waved the army.

Your base is a wreck.

Heaven is where you are.

Maple Leaf blowing in the wind.

Winter in Lordaeron

The north wind is mixed with despair.

I started wandering.

Farewell to death knell.

Where I was born again

carefully

Crossing a dangerous farm

Surviving humans, companions before death.

I can't guard against it

Agamand Mill in the North

There are sad ghosts wandering around.

In the deep family grave

Death lurks quietly.

Whenever the cold wind blows

The broken windmill shook.

Very light and sad.

South of the ruins of the palace

The lake rippled gently.

Laudanmir in the microwave oven.

There is an occasional ray of sunshine in the sky.

The breeze is blowing slowly.

Birds wandering in the forest

I let go of my nervousness for a while.

Become in a good mood

To the east stands the Aotelanke Mountains.

The ice and snow are shining with cold light.

Warriors step into the icy mountain.

Run to the distant battlefield

Upstream of the river in Langmuir Tower.

Reach the birthplace of the plague

In the middle of the muddy lake

There is an evil temple.

Dean duck holds his skull scepter.

Start a speech:

"Everyone has lived, but not everyone will really die!"

Stand on the ridge of regret and pay tribute.

Where the Lightbringer sleeps.

And now it's a statue.

Silently guarding the former hometown.

Look west

You can see the village in ruins.

Ah! Andohar

Where the prince killed Kel 'Thuzad.

We thought everything would be normal from now on.

What a naive fantasy.

Oh! A dark red sunset in the distance

How much sorrow have you witnessed?

I continued my wandering.

Go to what is now called the plague of the East.

This used to be my hometown.

Bury the best time of my life

At that time, the bustling town.

Now there is only desolation.

There is a noisy market in my memory.

Busy workshop

And the charming flower girl on the street

He stood in front of my door and sang affectionately:

"Where you are, it is heaven.

I will always be by your side ... "

Along the way, through Cowling intersection, Blomir,

Light wishing church-

Finally, I came to Stanso.

The rusty door swayed gently.

Broken city walls

Once indestructible.

until one day

Prince Arthas ordered

Let the fire devour the streets.

Now all that's left here is

The confrontation between fanatical and bloody crusaders and the scourge of the undead

Standing in front of the old house

I saw his familiar face.

He seems to have forgotten me.

He noticed my direction.

Howling shows a desire to kill.

I only see evil light in my eyes.

Waving a dagger where I was standing.

Vowed in my heart to liberate his soul.

Take a step back and I'll sing magic.

Flame and frost

Weave the web of death

He is still stubbornly resisting.

But there will be no strength to fight back.

Then I pulled out the dagger.

A sharp knife pierced his heart.

He fell on the rotten land.

I knelt beside him.

Imagine that he recognized me at the last minute.

His eyes were empty and confused.

Struggling screams shouted:

"For the Lich King!"

I held his hand tightly.

Begging his forgiveness.

Then burn his body.

Bury the ashes in the mountains

We can overlook our hometown from here.

Although it is surrounded by withered plants.

But I'm not sad.

When the spring breeze blows

They will grow again—

Where there is life, there is hope.

I don't have to wander anymore.

I stood by his grave.

Sing softly to him every day:

"Where you are, it is heaven."