Elegy to a Dying Sun

As the evening slowly ends,
As the sun shrinks from our view,
Marches the defiant few
On who their new world depends.

Crimson solution abound,
Forth from goblet, forth from throat.
While the golden only gloat,
Their armies swiftly surround.

The radiance of our rule
Dims as a candle of wax,
For we do not see the axe;
Blinded, we play as the fool.

The walls of the Steel Palace
Crumble as dust to the earth.
We stand witness to the birth
Of our death, all for our malice.

Divine shall be forgotten,
Replaced by new dawn of Man.
The dark and decaying plan 
Lord of souls most rotten.

---

Elegy to a Dying Sun was written by Flushak, goddess of art and freedom, with the help of Shynall, god of wisdom and chronicler for the knowledge of the First Dawn Dominion. In 1470 EOG, Shynall confessed to Flushak, his most trusted friend among the gods, saying of his realisation that they and their divine brethren faced extinction with no feasible way to prevent it. This was their last act together, righting a memoir for all of the divine concerning the downfall and arrogance of the golden guardians of the sun. They were both killed that year by The Usurper Trinity, with Shynall falling to the axe first after a lengthy fight through his library and Flushak found later already dead in the form of a statue.