In the heart of the wasteland, where shadows dance, Steel-clad warriors tread, their footsteps a warlike trance. Beneath a blood-red sun, they seek salvation’s chance, Chasing memories of home, lost in this dystopian expanse.
Dodging robots, relentless and cold, Their circuits aflame with purpose untold. They hunt survivors, desperate and bold, As if redemption lies within their grasp, foretold.
Boom echoes through ravaged streets, a symphony of strife, Explosions bloom like twisted flowers, claiming life. Yet hope persists, flickering like a fragile candle’s light, In the eyes of those who fight, who refuse to yield to night.
Bloody SCUM, they call us, Outcasts, misfits, remnants of a broken world. But we rise, defiant, from the dust and rust, Our scars a testament to survival, our banner unfurled.
So let the winds carry our battle cries, fierce and true, Across desolate plains, where ruins whisper of what once grew. For in this war-torn saga, where humanity teeters on the brink, We’ll forge our legend, unyielding, inked in blood and ink.