Prophesied

The crooked river will catch aflame
Chaos and order will be selfsame
Manmade stars will crowd the skies
Machines will  peer from fresh new eyes
And many will come, and more will die,
their corpses piled far too high,
And the empire will rot at the foundation
and splinter into warring nation
and four horsemen will come this way
And Rome will burn in but a day.

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