Shooting stars crash into the Moon,
destroying the nights of life.
The flames of the Sun escape from its cold core,
burning the space of Gods.
Timeless, nothing remains.
On the shores where Man was born, I saw Sîn fall.
On the banks of the river of life, the dawn rose absent of light.
Mankind was wasted away, idols were worshiped in vain.
Animals rushed to death. Fields were washed away by the flood.
Cities were devastated by pestilence.
Kings went mad in their own vanity.
The pantheon was destroyed by its creators
devoured by emptiness.
The fury of Enlil opened the bowels of the sky,
unleashing the storm of punishment.
Seven days of drowning, a tempest of seven nights.
The desert dunes turned to mud.
Snowfall buried the forests.
Earthquakes toppled the mountains,
devoured the walls of Uruk.
The growls of the firmament covered the wind with shadows.
I saw that wisdom couldn’t escape being fleeting.
Mortality does not belong to creation,
just oblivion lies under the stars.
The world became an echo, silenced by its own downfall.
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