[Written in a flowing hand, the following paean's composure complements the weight of its tone.]

Strife the stage for fortunes new-forged
And long-fed potential which now bursts.
Southern Scourge has claimed her war,
The moon is ripe in blood.

Meet it was that stars be blotted black,
The world swallowed thus in a fight so removed;
Kings and serfs pitched and tossed as one
While uncaring Gods haggle over skies.

Regina Rubida - baleful eye never sleeping,
In the shadows does her bounty flourish.
First be she to bind the world-eating Rot,
Right hand of Subjugation's only Name.

Faithful she was to an Empire unbent,
An ebon sword while alabaster towers fall.
Rise the godmaker, rosethorn canker Queen
Whose spoils are eternal, do multiply in glory.

The ages devour paragons, glut themselves
on indelible scrivenings, parched for infamy's blood.
The Serpent coils round the skin of the world,
And guides imperial gem to crown that was by her hand conquered.

Himari-branch skin and jadeflame look
And her acts the ink to split the earth
O'er which mortal eye will constantly roam
Writing and rewriting, swallowing, hacking up.

Bezoar lodestone shall the Tyrant be;
Widows' wails her legacy,
Long as nights do reign, so reigns she.

Penned by my hand on Kinsday, the 17th of Celes, in the year 0 AC.