My pre luanch halo poem

here it is

Tis was the night b4 and all through the night not a creature was stirring not even a Promethean Knight. the crawlers and grunts sleeping in their beds, I heard a bump the didact might of hit his head. each little soul resting with care, only fearing that the Master chief would be there. Carnage broke loose and hell was unleashed, but the precursors sat there and said Oh please. watching the preorders go up was a constant trend, but for many they knew it was the end. heads and bodies will be shaken, only to know that an ancient evil awakens!

The End.