The creation of a legend,
One that would last long.
It is in fair DotA,
Where we lay this song.
From the aeons of strife,
A new evil is done
The Sentinels falter,
The Scourge has come.
Where now are the heroes who stand?
Who shall now protect the land?
Like blossoms in the wind, they have passed.
Like rain on the mountain, like dew on the grass.
The mighty Pitlord, the monstrous Monstrosity,
The Purple Lancer, the annoying Purity.
The Disciple of Virtue, who flies forth,
And crashes the game, when he morphs.
The Necrolyte of old, the Fletcher of Bone,
A Shaker of the Earth with his Golem of stone.
The Assassin is an ass, the Frostie is a *****,
The Doom Prophet just screws us all.
The Meteors come down, the Anemo bursts,
The Vampire quenches his deep thirst.
The MageSlayer kills, the Lifestealer is fed.
The Wraithlord wakes up the living dead.
Cheesy is the Dragon Knight, as is his fame,
And the Sidereal Engine, which does the same.
Deadly is the Wolf, who makes not a sound,
And Mandevar, who makes the world go round.
Sharp is the Sniper, with his Headshot of doom,
Rich is the Tormented Soul, which makes things go boom.
Strong is the Juggernaut, who leaves nothing left,
But cannot defeat, the Huntress wall of death.
But nothing can beat the Madness of the Cow,
Or the fear of the Pitlord, who makes himself go "Ow"
There is no time to say even "Craps!"
Before the Purity hits you, with her Collapse.
Where now are the heroes who stand?
Who shall now protect the land?
Like blossoms in the wind, they have passed.
Like rain on the mountain, like dew on the grass.
One that would last long.
It is in fair DotA,
Where we lay this song.
From the aeons of strife,
A new evil is done
The Sentinels falter,
The Scourge has come.
Where now are the heroes who stand?
Who shall now protect the land?
Like blossoms in the wind, they have passed.
Like rain on the mountain, like dew on the grass.
The mighty Pitlord, the monstrous Monstrosity,
The Purple Lancer, the annoying Purity.
The Disciple of Virtue, who flies forth,
And crashes the game, when he morphs.
The Necrolyte of old, the Fletcher of Bone,
A Shaker of the Earth with his Golem of stone.
The Assassin is an ass, the Frostie is a *****,
The Doom Prophet just screws us all.
The Meteors come down, the Anemo bursts,
The Vampire quenches his deep thirst.
The MageSlayer kills, the Lifestealer is fed.
The Wraithlord wakes up the living dead.
Cheesy is the Dragon Knight, as is his fame,
And the Sidereal Engine, which does the same.
Deadly is the Wolf, who makes not a sound,
And Mandevar, who makes the world go round.
Sharp is the Sniper, with his Headshot of doom,
Rich is the Tormented Soul, which makes things go boom.
Strong is the Juggernaut, who leaves nothing left,
But cannot defeat, the Huntress wall of death.
But nothing can beat the Madness of the Cow,
Or the fear of the Pitlord, who makes himself go "Ow"
There is no time to say even "Craps!"
Before the Purity hits you, with her Collapse.
Where now are the heroes who stand?
Who shall now protect the land?
Like blossoms in the wind, they have passed.
Like rain on the mountain, like dew on the grass.
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