Sacred Haven of Debauchery

I run, and again, behind me
A plague undead pursues.
A loud cry, a creepy laugh,
There is no hope left.
I cast a spell, and, with axes,
Diligently enchanted by me,
I rush into a swarm of zombie-wargs,
That want to roam around the forest.
One - on the evil dead face,
The other I threw off the bridge. (lol, I literally threw him off the bridge, over a huge abyss, in the forest xD)
Where did he come from?! Oh no, I'm there too!
I wander in the dead place.
One bite, the second. And that's it.
It's pointless to fight any further.
IT materializes.
And there are no more zombie-wargs.
Suddenly, from behind, that plague undead
Approaches the avatar,
But my axe will destroy
Its enraged tower.

And a squad of undead howled,
And howled to the dark forces.
And in the world of corpses
There were a couple of thousand more.
No longer dead, but not alive,
And raised by force,
All evil, incredibly evil,
They were moved there.
Two thousand one hundred and twenty-seven
Cruel, evil undead
Versus five hundred and fifty-six
Monstrous griffins.
And there were one thousand five hundred
Enraged freaks.
The griffins are gone. Too bad!
Another five hundred monsters.
But suddenly, on a sickly horse,
An evil fellow rode up.
And he gathered all the undead into a fist
With magic.
And there were fewer undead
By one thousand five hundred.

Are there at least some decent "poems" there? If not, then you can send it as a text file!

An undead runs. And behind him -
Two hundred light ones with axes.
The undead throws a smoke grenade
Under their feet, and BANG!
Fifty light ones suddenly become undead
And the light ones with axes
Began to crush and sweep
And leave no one alive. (probably, I meant that the light ones died and became undead themselves)
And there are more and more undead!
But the main light one
Suddenly declares with a fireball,
That he is the main one here, cooler than everyone.
With such an argument
He evicted poltergeists.
And the undead all ran away,
And ghosts appeared.
But the fastest of our undead,
(The very one who was running away from the light ones)
Rummaged through the spells, and BANG!
All the light ones are gone.
There are five or six undead left,
And reinforcements are coming to the light ones.
Five or six hundred griffins
Flew there.