From their ancient thrones
The oldest gods are dying,
Watching their empire in ruins.
The sacred bones burn in rivers of dust.
Buried in the roots of archaic stones
They are prisoners of time.
Threats in the west beyond the mountain,
The black sun rising.
Black clouds announce the storm,
The acceptance of another god,
The surrender of the biggest hospitón
The extinction of the blazing flame.
Blood runs from the edge of a wounded land
Enshrouding all the great monoliths
And throwing them into the dust of earth,
The downfall, the downfall of Nur has reached the end.

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