Inversion

The game is reaching its finale, as now is getting nower,

The overt are falling over, while the covert are seeking cover.

It is raining, like rivers falling from Heaven to heaths harried by a scorching Sun,

Players who once drank player-blood are now teaming together in compassion.

The omen infamous for sweeping a thousand lives, shadows the Earth once more,

Powerful players have hidden in holes as the underdogs take to streets with furore,

For, Now, presents the Ultimate Boss, who has an unfathomed spell in store,

The underdogs howl in ridiculous scorn, as they welcome the Karmic hero from lore,

The boss is an unexpected friend, omnipresently punishing the vermin they abhor,

Them, whose incessant cheating messed up the game like last time, and the time before.

The underdogs with wings learn that like their dreams, they too can fly,

Rest with their team on terrains where enemy tanks once used to crush them by.

The boss can't reach them, catch them or pitch them towards death,

For he's too heavy to jump, to short to reach; the Airbender is out of breath.

The underdogs who were Kings from yore, return to claim their thrones,

They no longer fear cages and guns of the enemies that once pelted stones,

They call out their armies who've been cuffed and thrashed in their confined homes,

And they burst out in angst and fury, in restless yearning to fell their enemies' Romes,

The terrors of enemy camps have been engraved in their memory lobe,

As they now work for the Boss, and carry its spell around the globe.

The underdogs who are well down under, dwelling in bubbles they manifest,

Prepare for an ark that net them won't, but delete their enemies at the Creator's behest,

The Boss devours Continental, as fortresses of the powerful fall,

Their leaders heave helpless sighs, as the Creator will now have a Ball