"In the darkest hour, when the land is shrouded in shadows,
A celestial omen shall grace the sky, its crimson hue foretelling sorrow.
The Blood Moon rises, a harbinger of impending doom,
A prophetic sign of impending gloom.

Beneath its eerie glow, ancient forces awaken,
Unleashing horrors, their power unshaken.
From the depths of the abyss, they shall emerge,
Feeding on fear, their hunger they surge.

Lands once serene shall tremble with fright,
As chaos reigns, cloaked in the moon's crimson light.
Cries of anguish and despair fill the air,
As the Blood Moon's curse weaves its snare.

Brave souls shall rise to face the imminent dread,
To break the curse and protect what lies ahead.
Through trials and sacrifice, they'll seek the key,
To banish darkness and set their world free.

Yet, in this battle of light against night,
Choices must be made, sacrifices taken in stride.
For the Blood Moon's power is both curse and cure,
And the fate of all rests on what they endure.

Heed this prophesy, for its truth is profound,
When the Blood Moon rises, chaos shall abound.
But in the face of fear and impending plight,
Hope and valor shall emerge, embracing the fight."