Mythology - The Forest of the Impaled

Behold Sultan... for this is what awaits thee
Miles of torment and death lie before you
Twenty-thousand impaled by my command
Twenty-thousand that died at my hand
Your army can only gaze in horror
At the stakes that stab the horizon
This bloody forest instills the fear within
This land of death is where your end begins

The smell of the dead is putrid and thick
The scent of gore it makes your men sick
As the vultures circle in the sky
For they shall feed and pick their bones dry
Rotted flesh falls to the ground
And the scavengers feed on the remnants
Their bodies slowly fade with time
Though the terror still lives in their eyes

Slowly, you approach my morbid décor
Sheer amazement from my collection
Upon closer look, your eyes grow large
When you realize just who they are
They were once loyal to your nation
But now their corpses stare at the sky
They all suffered and died in torment
Challenge me and this will also your fate

Although I am outnumbered three to one
I dare you to challenge my might
Exhausted and hungry you turn away
Flawlessly, I capture the day
I, The Impaler, have left my mark
My legend shall be told afar
My legacy shall go unmatched
The forest of the impaled