my children . . .’ And with these words
A mighty earthquake shook the world . . .
The scowling clouds
Lashed the heaving earth
With rain and hail
And sheet lightning,
While underworld fires
Burst from cracks in the Earth—
Turning the flooding waters
Into boiling cauldrons
Of molten mud
And roaring steam.
Whole continents vanished under steaming waters
And new ones appeared from below;
Great plains tilted on their sides
And capsized like wooden boats,
Forever entombing countless millions
Of animals and men.
Howling hurricanes ravaged the steaming earth
From north to south, from east to west.
Great mountain ranges split asunder
And collapsed with nauseating sounds.
The shining cities of the Amarire
Were swamped with boiling water
And steam so superheated . . .
It melted metal and rock.
But most dreadful of all was the ultimate fate
Of the greatest city of Amak-Harabeti,
The Empire’s glittering capital.
When they witnessed their masters in flight
The Bjaauni felt the blissful kiss
Of the Spirit of Rebellion within their hearts!
They rose in their countless thousands,
Led by Odu the Killer;
They fell upon their panic-ridden overlords
And killed them with a great delight.
They sacked the city from end to end,
Disembowelling and cruelly beheading
Both masters and mistresses.
This display set a fine example
To all the robot insects
And they proceeded to slaughter outright
Both Bjaauni and Amarire.
All were now struggling for mastery
In a tortured world already half sacked,
When suddenly the man-made sun exploded
With a hideous and dazzling peal of thunder.
Za-Ha-Rrellel witnessed all this but remained unmoved,
Being insolently confident of his own ability
To remain immortal and rebuild from scratch
A new world with his creative power.
Thus from the safety of his indestructible shelter
He watched most unconcernedly as his subjects
Died in their thousands and millions.
The Great Goddess Ma stood ankle-deep in blood
Among the countless dead bodies,
Pleading for mercy on behalf of the human race,
But the Great Spirit was totally unmoved.
Suddenly a huge green giant with a bloody axe,
And a disembowelled woman across the shoulder,
Announced his presence to the Emperor himself;
Odu the Killer was the last Bjaauni alive.
‘I . . . kill!’ bellowed the giant,
Suddenly acquiring the gift of speech.
‘Die! Kill yourself!’ commanded the Emperor—
‘I am your god – your creator!’
No longer subservient, the subhuman roared—
Plucked out the Emperor’s windpipe with lungs and all.
Flung in a corner he had time to nurse
Second thoughts on his Immortality!
Za-Ha-Rrellel died, the miserable beast that he was—
After two hundred years he was dying at last—
A most miserable death it was that he died—
But in body alone . . . Yea! Not in spirit!
Somehow he knew that Mankind would survive
And flourish again in future years—
And future Humanity he intended to infest
With ambition and cruelty and love of bloodshed!
This evil spirit is still alive today
In the hearts of all mankind,
Where ambitiously it is working towards one goal—
Complete destruction of our present race!
With a last lungless gasp Za-Ha-Rrellel observed
His indestructable shelter crash
And over the towering ruin-like walls
Smiled the hideous mouth of the Tree of Life.
‘You failed to destroy me, Za-Ha-Rrellel!’
The Goddess threw herself into her beloved lord’s many arms;
‘Those two . . . those two must live . . .
Spare them as the parents of the Second People;
Mercy on all creatures
