In the beginning there were one hundred.
They stood tall, ready at the starting line.
Ninety-nine will find the land of the dead
and succumb to fate, much before their time.

This race will cause the chaos that we crave.
We love the mailbag thump of the fallen.
It gives us the reason for riot and rave
and gives some a much needed calling.

But winning this race will have its costs.
You may lose your friends during the night.
The body is there, but the soul is lost.
Your mind may end up falling to the fight.

Only winner will get to go home,
And then only the cheese will stand alone.