The Fallen

You draw X cards and you lose X life, where X is
the number of creature cards in your graveyard.
And now the page before us blurs. An age is done. The
book must close. We are abandoned to history. Raise
high one more time the tattered standard of the Fallen.
See through the drifting smoke to the dark stains upon
the fabric. This is the blood of our lives, this is the
payment of our deeds, all soon to be forgotten. We were
never what people could be. We were only what we
were. Remember us.