Disco Poetry

[Groshyr]

In the depths of space, there lurks a foe,
A faction known as Nomads, don't you know?
Their ships, organic, strange and sleek,
Their power, feared by all who seek.

They come from far beyond our reach,
Their goals unknown, their language, a screech,
Their weapons, a form of psychic might,
That tears apart our ships with fright.

The Nomads drift in space alone,
Their bodies merge, their minds a drone,
And yet, they seem to have a plan,
A plan that threatens all of man.

Their presence, a cause for dread,
As they consume the living and the dead,
And so we fight, with all our might,
To push them back, to end the fight.

But still, they come, in wave after wave,
And we struggle on, to try and save,
Our worlds, our lives, our very race,
From the Nomad's terrifying embrace.

So beware the Nomads, if you dare,
For they'll be waiting, out there somewhere,
Their psychic powers, a fearsome sight,
A foe to challenge, day or night.