Wh40k Poem: \"Grim Future in Our Galaxy infested by corrupting Chaos\"
Games, Bloody deadly lead heavy games, army lists of all those souls that will be grievingly collected by the Grim reaper and the Chaos gods...
Souls in a Galaxy corrupted by Insane gods, chaos warbands roaming space spreading plague and destruction,
your life is not worth a Boltgun Bolt...
Epic old concrete Buildings falling down on humaniods made out of flesh, crushed in the fight between Empire, chaos and Aliens Death comes eventually...
Vehicles of Great size rumbles on reeking of oil and combustion, loud and noisy, smaller Tyranid squashed underneath a Land-Raiders metal track...
Hunter-killers Swarm Across the battle field next to ravaging Genestealers, their claws cut through cumbersome heavy powerarmor like butter and flesh and blood sprouts out in random directions...
Orks Madboys follow their own twisted persuit in a seemingly aimless manner , most often released to cause confusion among enemy lines, followed by bands of gretchins clearing minefield with thier feet, all expendable...
Insanity released, troops to die on an alien battle \"all for a greater Cause\" the Emperor Loves you when you waste your life in his honour...
Fields of death, fire, pain and violence, giant structures falling down field support blows bodies appart, it doesn't matter what color of blood you have or if you have blood at all...
Two Armies or more on a gigantic minute battle field, a swamp on Catachan, the spire of Necromuna, in an drifting Space Hulk, the whole galaxy and beyond, forever war...
Combat is surviving, race angainst race, human agains human, alien against alien, no one is to trust, Imperial agents torturing for the sake of the Emperor appearing to be realltively good compare to the worst...
Space, Eldar Craftworlds travelling for eons with no partcular goal other than survive for another year, space pirates attacking cargo vessels for plunder and pillage, your life is worth less..
Chaos Daemons Possessing human bodies, turn them in to a mutating biological mess or even worse twists your brain around utill even the worst metal madness would be a perferance...
Mutations caused in willingly and unwillinger covens of chaos cultists, is it a reward or a cursed ride to something worse than hell??? sould eternally lost as imortal shaddows of pure pain and agony...
Wierd things that stalks you in an extraterrestrial djungle, that wants to suck your intestents out through a minor hole in your head, sometimes the other Army isn't your worst enemy... they might even have some pity on your soul...
A mutation twisting your body in a citys Hiveworld forgotten underworld, killing your kin for a pice of food, fighting for a few inches of territory, you're wort nothing, or only your will to live and fight...
Is the only salvation to become a Daemon Prince and torture other minor existents? such are those they ways of the Warhammer 40.000 universe, survival of the harshest of all and not even that can save your mortal soul, born to die forgotten on a giant battlefield, a minute place in the Galaxy we call the Milkyway, perhaps death is not a cure but a blessing...
