Dota - Death Prophet poem | Текст песни

• Тексты песен
• Dota
• Death Prophet poem

Tis the season of the Dire,
Darktide rising ever higher,
Greevils hatching from Roshan,
Radiant's power is almost gone!

When the river red does run,
With the blooding of the sun,
Gather candy in its spate,
Lest Roshan you aggravate!

Should you offer nothing sweet,
He will feed on hero's meat,
Dire or Radiant matters not,
Best be ready if you're caught!

Once Roshan has had his fill,
Candy then afflicts his will:
Maddened into sugary fits,
He will rage until he quits!

Dire and Radiant must unite,
With a common end in sight,
Roshan will not yield to five,
Ten must join if they would thrive.

If Roshan, your team defeats,
Diretide offers up its treats,
Eggs and essence do abound...
After that another round!