Be weary, O explorers, for what you might find
In the vast heavens where danger resides.
    Down from the heavens, a rock shall come
And spread a posion to distant lands.

    This Heavenly Death shall spread as fire
That no forces of man could then quence,
    And every land, every man, every beast,
Shall fall dead in its quake.

    From the heavens, death shall come,
But despair not, dear brethren, for death is not all!
     For if to the heavens you do cry,
Then from the heavens shall Ultras descend,
     Great spirits of humanity-now taken form-
Shall give you power to stop the end.

     Into the people shall these spirits go,
Fully celestial and fully man
     To let you wise ones save yourselves;
A way to let you use your strength to stand.

     An Arcadia shall you build
Of what is left of our world
     With death still on the brink
Of our little circle of peace.

     A dome of light shall you make
To keep your kind alive in a pearl,
     One the Ultras will show the way
At the sacrifice of each life they gave.

     In time, the Ultras shall find rest,
When the world forgets that they exist;
    Forgotten, they will lie in wait,
Alone and colorless, yet never dead.

     All of this shall come to pass,
On another world with other men,
     And their lives will suffer greatly
In order for them to come to glory.

A/N: for The Poetry Gauntlet 2018-week 1