Painted Greeks and soldiers On the edge of time, Melting in the rain. who*es and philosophers, Lonely ruders, cold Bosphorean wind blows the dying night. Themistius, writer, Consult, pagan High librarian. Witness of countless fake emperors, Cursed to save as much as I can Before dawn. I see it coming: A new age I didn't call, Nor asked for, All is vain, Every book carries A destiny Of pain. Still I'll try, I cannot stop. Like this rain, Drop by drop. Meaningless stars Move around. carry Rome what will come. Lucifer Has raised Nεa Pωμη don't be 'fraid.