Summoner's Rift

The sun rises, but no good morning,

Not on this, or any other day.

Another fight comes to this place,

As champions look for foes to slay.

...

Reason for this? It matters not.

Warriors head down all three lanes.

Salivating for the taste of blood,

But for now, they shall refrain.

...

Suicide to rush the towers,

But minions emerge to take the blows.

To which side shall this battle swing?

At this early stage, nobody knows.

...

One side draws blood, first but not last,

In jungle, creatures fall to blades.

Towers crumble, minions fall,

The dragon lets out cries of rage.

...

A tower falls, the battle changes,

Champions shift, one lane to next.

They fight, they die, reborn again,

The blood, it flows without pretext.

...

Nashor is slain, the siege is pressed,

Inhibitors crumble into dust.

Bi-pedal walkers join the fray.

They fight, they fall, consigned to rust.

...

Finally, the core is reached,

The most bloody battles here are waged.

All this is far Runeterra's sake,

To spare the world from acts depraved

...

The core, it falls, for victors, pride,

The losers? Shame, eternal shame.

But the rift is soon cleared of the fallen,

For the League must always play its games.