Daxon watches, from a building tall,
and he watches, soldiers fall.

The elites go forth, and crush all beneath,
the heedless cries, they don't bequeath.

Many soldiers try, to stop the threat,
but flight is now, their best bet.

A few civs are saved, but many die,
And Daxon watches, and lets out a sigh.

One Sang' looks, and holds him close,
and asks him why, he's so morose.

He tells the truth, says it straight,
all the death, is a thing of hate.

The beasts pause, and set him down,
starting to wear, the slightest frown.

But then guns bark, and war resumes,
and people are squashed, like little legumes.

Soon more come, but these are good,
acting like macros, really should.

Dax watches, as Sergal fires,
Leaving one elite, in situation dire.

Fan takes cover, as two attack,
But the fourth, is rubbing his sack.

Evangelion charges, and takes out the third,
as a new guy watches, a new blue bird.

And the second soon falls, and the air goes still,
a deafening silence, the area filled.

A weak cheer, and the quiet breaks,
and macros go home, the earth still shakes.

Just another day, in the HPS,
Not the greatest, but they earn their rest.