Here is my entry, a battle scene between the Red and Blue splinters, with a bit of a twist at the end. Sure, it isn't a rhyming poem, and it isn't in metre, but a poem it is nonetheless.

"Unleash the hounds!"  the Summoner cries above the din of battle.

A maul of three-headed Cerberus' joins the fray.

"Keep those Pit Ogres in reserve, we'll need them later!"  the Summoner orders his troops.

A war cry, and brandished clubs wave in response from the rear.

"Mark those Naga's ... they're trying to sneak through!  the Summoner fends off a sneak attack.

Two Red serpentine divisions tangle with the Blue reptile foes.

"Air support! Where is my air support?"  the Summoner bellows.

Giant Rocs dive from the sky, all sharp beaks and talons.

"Fire Demons, break left, circle their..."  CRACK!

The Summoner is hit by a bolt of lightening before his final command is spoken.

A loud cheer goes up from the Blue battle lines.

 

"Now!"  yells a different voice, to the right of where the Summoner's body lays.

Malric reveals himself in a burst of flame, as his troops overwhelm the jubilant Blues, caught off guard.

The lifeless body is respectfully stepped around as the Red troops swarm.

"For the Goblin Shaman!"  Malric yells, engulfing the enemy Summoner in flame.

"For the Goblin Shaman!"  chorus the Red troops as they finish the Blue.

"He was no Summoner, but his sacrifice won us the battle."