Our urge to create is immutable; we must create But the beings we create shall never again reach out in strength against us All that is created will suffer All will be born in suffering; endless grayness shall be their lot All creation will tailor to failure and pain that never again shall the offspring of the eternal fount Rise up against their creators No more will No more freedom Nothing new but agonizing death and never good shall come of it We are the last of those who gave you breath and form millions of years ago We are the last of those your kind defiled and ruthlessly destroyed We are the last Precursors and now we are legion This is not your grave, but you are welcome in it