# Chapter 59: The Great Catastrophe
'Twas in the time when all lands had received
The children of three mothers bright and fair:
Great Planta, Anima, and those conceived
By Funga, spreading life through earth and air.
They led their offspring across virgin ground
Where peace and harmony would reign supreme,
'Twas time of plenty when joy could be found
Where earth and heaven shared the same sweet dream.
But Shesha the Actinite and Matsya wise
Each saw a vision dread of coming doom,
With prophetic sight they could recognize
The shadow that would fill the world with gloom.
All-knowing Mithra showed them fiery death,
The deadly load that waited in the years
To come with devastation's poisoned breath
That would fill faithful hearts with blood and tears.
He chose them as his messengers so true
To save the family through all time to come,
These prophets would proclaim what they must do
Before the hour when death would strike them dumb.
Shesha preached with power and with might
To creatures dwelling deep beneath the sea
Who made their home in kingdoms of the night
Where they had lived so long in liberty.
While Matsya took his faithful, noble stand
To preach throughout the earth to every soul,
To every living thing throughout the land
That served the Faithful King's eternal goal.
They spread the warning word from shore to shore
Beneath each shining star's eternal light,
To every place their feet would ever go
That all the world might know of coming night.
From fair Euramerica's distant strand
To Siberia's wild and frozen plain,
To Gondwana's most remote land
Great Matsya traveled through the sun and rain.
Through forests filled with ancient, mighty trees
And countless insects buzzing in the air
He journeyed far beyond the seven seas
With prophecy his burden and his care.
And people heard his warning voice of doom
About what they had heard from Mithra's call,
His words of warning seemed to seal their tomb
And gave them little choice but heed them all.
Shesha traveled to every distant sea
Despite the cold night breeze and bitter storm,
Across the reefs where coral colonies
Had flourished long in beauty's living form.
Across the great sponge reefs he carried word
Of Mithra's prophecy of coming fate:
"There is apocalypse—have you not heard?—
That comes to us from future's bitter gate
To strike us down as it has struck before
All people in the age Silurian,
That time of darkness, death, and bloody war,
That age of devastation barbarian.
Darkness will descend upon the earth
And send all into bitter, endless night,
Only the faithful's vision, and their worth,
Will guide them through the storm with faithful sight
And keep their bodies warm when all the rest
Turns into dust because they could not see
That those who fail the ultimate test
Are those who trust in their own vanity."
The people of the sea with mocking voice
Ignored the prophecy and scorned the word
Of messengers, and made the foolish choice
To treat their warning as absurd.
But people of the land took heed and made
Their stand to follow wisdom's faithful call
Before the great downfall, they were afraid
But knew that preparation helps us all.
And then it came to pass—the prophecy!—
The bitter truth that none had wished to see:
Two demons came with death's cruel tyranny:
Kellwasser's breath of poisoned misery
And Hangenberg's most cruel and evil hand
Destroyed both ocean's depths and fertile land.
The reefs that filled the world with beauty bright
Were crushed beneath the weight of endless night.
The Ammonites who dwelt in safety's keep
Within the reefs where peace had been their home
Were left alone to wander ocean deep
Without a place of rest, condemned to roam.
For hundred million years the broken reefs
Would shed their tears in ruins, lost, and drear,
Their beauty tempest-tossed brought only griefs
To those who held their memory so dear.
Great Matsya cried aloud with bitter pain:
"Why must we suffer through this woe again?
Why must each generation have to face
This devastation's curse on all our race?
Why must the wheel of history repeat
This cycle of defeat and endless loss?
Why must we always find ourselves complete-
ly lost beneath fate's overwhelming cross
And prey to evil's overwhelming might
That conquers day and brings eternal night?
Why can't we learn to see the way to be
The ones who set our captive spirits free?"
All armored fishes of the ancient sea
Who lived in freedom's blessed liberty
Were crushed beneath the weight of destiny
That none could change or alter or flee.
Only the agile sons of Janus wise,
Those faithful ones who never compromise
With evil, survived the bitter test supreme
When all the world was crushed beneath the dream
Of death that stole away their precious breath
And left the oceans red with blood of those
Who could not find a way to conquer death
And fell beneath their overwhelming woes.
The sons of Arachnus suffered most
Of all who dwelt where death's cold presence felt
Its bitter touch: two great and faithful host—
The nations where the sons of heroes dwelt.
The noble sons of Trilobos the great
And brave Eurypter's mighty host were gone
In just an instant's time—such bitter fate!—
Without a reason, suddenly withdrawn.
The sons of Trilobos left just one
To carry on: brave Proeth all alone
Survived when all his brothers' days were done
And he was left to face the world unknown.
While all the sons of mighty Eurypter
Were exiled from the seas they'd loved so long,
Never to return, no one to deter
Their banishment—they'd lost their ancient song
Of joy that they had sung through centuries
In waters that they'd loved through all their days,
Never to return to gentle seas
That they would yearn for all their exiled ways.
The blood of ammonites turned all the seas
To crimson sights that filled the heart with dread,
While death rode forth upon the bitter breeze
And left the world filled with the faithful dead.
The last graptolite lived a life so lone
That none would give to any living thing:
Completely isolated and alone,
Remembering the glory of his king
And all the beauty that was lost when frost
Of evil fell upon the world so fair,
When death's dark banner was unfurled, it cost
The world its joy and filled it with despair.
With nobody to stand by his side
Within the ocean's vast and lonely space,
He lived to age upon time's bitter tide,
The last one of his kind and noble race.
Upon the page of history's darkest hour
Of sorrow, loss, and unrelenting pain
That fell like bitter acid rain to sour
The faithful hearts that struggled to remain
True to their hope when evil's poison spread
Its bitterness throughout the world so wide
And hope seemed like a flower that was dead
With none to tend it or stand by its side.
Even the lands and streams could not escape
The schemes of evil's overwhelming hand,
Soon every fertile valley and landscape
And every river throughout the land
Became a sight of woe and bitter dread:
Rivers of blood so thick and crimson-red
That filled each faithful heart with deep despair
And poisoned all the earth and all the air.
Then Matsya pleaded with great Mithra's might,
The greatest guide when world needs wisdom true:
"Why must we suffer in this endless night?
Why must we all go through
This cycle that seems to have no end?
Why can't we find a way to comprehend
The secret that will break the bitter curse
That always makes things infinitely worse?"
And Mithra answered with a voice so clear
That all who had the faith could always hear:
"As long as each new age ignores the page
Of struggles from the past and thinks their sage
Advice will be the last that's ever heard,
As long as they ignore the faithful word
Of those who walked this bitter path before
Through suffering, death, and war,
Each generation new must learn again
What others knew who felt the bitter pain
Of those who came before and paid the cost
Of freedom when all hope seemed to be lost.
The wisdom of the old must not remain
Untold, but passed from heart to heart again
If we would ever hope to make a start
At healing the world's broken heart
And breaking evil's chain of endless pain
That binds us to the past and makes us strain
Beneath the weight of what we cannot bear
Alone, without the help of faithful prayer.
Remember those who died and let their light
Guide all your steps through the endless night
Toward the dawn of hope's eternal day
When darkness shall be driven all away.
The faithful who survive must keep alive
Their hope and help their children learn to strive
For truth, and teach them well the stories true
Of how the evil came and what it will do
To those who turn away from wisdom's voice
And make the fool's eternally foolish choice
To trust in their own strength and wisdom's power
Instead of faith that saves in the dark hour.
For those who know the past will always build
A peace where hope can never be killed,
And those who learn the cost will never lose
Their way, because they've learned to choose
The path that leads to life and not to death
When darkness comes again—and with each breath
They draw, they'll be prepared to take their stand
As faithful guardians of the promised land."
From this apocalypse that brought the taste
Of death to every lip, the faithful faced
Their destiny and learned what they must be:
Not individual souls, but community
Of spiritual warriors who would dare
To face what no one knows is waiting there
At the ending of their earthly tale,
But trust that righteousness will never fail
If they remember well the stories told
Of those who came before, both young and old,
And opened up the door of wisdom wide
For all their kin who'd walk by their side
Into the battle for the sacred right
To live forever in freedom's blessed light
And pass to children of the coming age
The wisdom written on history's page.
The sons of Janus learned that those who turn
Away from truth will surely crash and burn,
But faithful ones who never bow their head
To evil will see better days ahead
When evil's power finally grows weak
And righteousness shall rule for those who seek
The path of truth and will not compromise
Their soul for all the world's deceitful lies.
The agile ones who lived through all the death
That evil brought with its poisonous breath
Became ancestors of those who never err
In keeping faithful watch as guardians pure
Against the evil stain that seeks to spread
Its poison to the living and the dead
And cover all the earth with hopeless night
Where none can see the everlasting light.
From Kellwasser's doom to Hangenberg's gloom,
The faithful learned there's always brighter room
For hope when all who love the light unite
To conquer evil's overwhelming might
And build a world where peace will always reign
And joy will triumph over every pain,
Where love will conquer all that stands opposed
To what the faithful value and hold close.
The crimson seas became a lesson taught
That those who heed the warning they are brought
By prophets will find their way to be
The ones who live in truth and liberty.
But those who will not hear the faithful call
Of prophets, whether great or whether small,
Will find themselves consumed by evil's power
That's waited for them since their natal hour.
The lonely graptolite who lived beyond
The night when all his people broke the bond
With life and left him solitary there
Reminds us that the faithful still can dare
To hold the precious past in memory
So pure that time can never make them flee
From what matters most: the love that's shared
By all the faithful who have always cared
For truth above their own security
And chose to live for all eternity
In service to the cause of what is right
Though it might cost them everything in sight.
Though civilizations rise and fall
And death may seem to conquer one and all
That seems important in this world below,
The faithful need not fear or live in woe,
For their sacrifice was not in vain—
Through every loss and every bitter pain
The faithful know that those who remember well
Will always live to share and tell
The story of their love to those who seek
For guidance when their souls are feeling weak
And darkness seems to conquer all the light
That once had made their future seem so bright.
From Matsya's cry to Mithra's wise reply
That teaches us to lift our vision high
And see beyond the darkness of today
The dawning of a bright and better way,
The lesson echoes clear for those who hear
What time has taught through every bitter year:
That those who will not learn from what has passed
Will find themselves in slavery held fast.
But those who hear the voices of the past
Will build a peace that's destined to last
And find their way to be the ones who see
That every ending is the key to be
The starting point of something new and bright
That conquers death's seemingly endless night
And lifts us up to see what we can be
When we trust in love's eternal victory.
The apocalypse that came with bitter shame
And death's destruction like consuming flame
Became the faithful's school where they would learn
The rule for which their hearts would always yearn:
To remember those who died for truth's sake
And teach their children never to forsake
The wisdom that the faithful died to save
From evil's power beyond the grave.
From Shesha's warning voice to Matsya's choice
To be the faithful's true prophetic voice
And carry word across the land and sea,
The messengers remind us to be free
From evil's trap that snares each age
When they ignore wisdom's sacred page
And think that they're the first to face the test
That separates the worst ones from the best.
The reefs that lay in ruins for so long
Like winter's death that silences all song
Were waiting to be found by those who'd build
What evil's hand had broken, crushed, and killed
With patient love and tender, faithful care
For beauty, truth, and everything that's fair,
The hundred million years of bitter tears
Were not the end of all our hopes and fears.
From devastation's darkest, bleakest night
To dawn's returning hope and blessed light,
The faithful always find their destined way
To resurrection's bright and glorious day
When all who died in faith shall rise again
Beyond the reach of death and bitter pain
To live forever in the light of love
That shines eternally from realms above.
The sons of Janus who survived the test
By keeping faith when hope seemed to have left
The world forever, became the blessed
Who show the way when souls of hope bereft
Can find no light to guide them through the dark
And evil seems to leave its bitter mark
On everything that once was good and true
And beautiful to me and you.
From Kellwasser's death to life's return,
The faithful show us we can always learn
That every ending here becomes the start
Of hope reborn in every faithful heart.
The apocalypse that seemed to end all dreams
Became the place where hope's eternal streams
Begin to flow with grace that lifts us high
Beneath the everlasting, starry sky.
Where all things are made new by love's sweet power
In resurrection's bright and glorious hour
For all who kept their faith through darkest night
And walked by hope's eternal, guiding light.