Well, the poem speaks for itself, I should say…
King Sargon of Akkad had ruled
for nearly six and fifty years, in peace,
uniting the nomadic herdsmen with
the settled farmers, the tillers of the ground
through his benign and godly reign,
with his daughter as the high-priestess to the Sin
roughly two million prosaic days ago
when these arid deserts were fertile, lush and green…
No one knows what curse befell them
but history shows that soon after him
violent anarchy, famine and cruel drought
ravaged each nook and corner of his realm.
As per history, these dates coincide
with the fall of the Old Kingdom too, further south,
buzzing around the mighty river, Nile
and a sustained shift in the flows of Atlantic.
Let us remember the curse and learn from their fate,
not to abuse nature to satisfy our avid whims.
For the sake of our posterity, let us contemplate
the fatal end of the reversal…
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