Original prompt: write a poem on the death of humanity.
Men were born on Earth, created by the gods.
Clever beings, but driven by greed.
Swords, spears, daggers, maces, rods,
On jealousy and violence, their instincts feed.
In burning deserts and plains frosted,
Battles broke out, building their history
Until their tribes, weary and exhausted,
Called for a truce, renouncing glory.
Alas, peace never lasted; for ambitious men
Would always rise again, yearning for power.
When an alliance was forged and ties were woven,
Treachery would follow, destruction’s harbinger.
On a fated day, they gave birth to evil weapons
Which could burn towns to ashes, with no remains.
The last war of mankind, marred with explosions,
Brought with it the fiercest of acid rains.
The few who survived vowed never again to fight.
Peace seemed settled, a bright future ahead.
But the weapons' insidious effect, grim as the night,
They learned the hard way, by despair and dread.
Horrible diseases reaping the elderly’s souls,
Monster childs giving up on a life of agony:
The true nature of men’s sin, unfair and foul,
Condemned their remnants to a gruesome calamity.
As the last of humanity drew its dying breaths,
They carved a message to act as their legacy.
“Should your goals ever need your peers' deaths,
Be prepared, for the gods will show you no mercy.”