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.