The Yubisseid

The following is a direct and literal translation of the original book found in the Archives at the City-State of Pekoland. Please note, the original work was orally transmitted through performances in Pekolish; meaning some of the context added by said performance has been lost when put to text. While there's concrete evidence pointing to the first written author being a Pekoland scribe named Rebino that lived in the very early Fourth Era, it's unfortunately lost to time who the original creator of this work was, like most events that took place during The Great Exile.
It's Yubicraft's custom to write following a 14 lines per page structure, where each line has a maximum of 30 characters which I tried to preserve without compromising the content.
This story tells the (likely fairly embellished) tale of what's known as "Night of Tears", when the Goddesses punished the inhabitants for commiting "Ybtwing", the "sin of complacency", a very serious offense to their divinities in Yubicrafter Culture

I

Sing, indeleble memory
of he who ran with riches and crossed the vast oceans
of destiny to find greatness where others had only seen
the endless void of the world. Tell, Oh Largest of Divines,
of his true and fair voyages the many wonders he saw,
the great deeds he achieved. Speak through my voice,
in Your Name of this fateful day The day a commoner thief
left his home a crooked twig

Yet he returned blessed
strong as an oak by Your Grace. Cry, oh Goddess, the plights
that befell the first of their names and the many woes from
which they were victorious. For great was the sorrow
that followed their first actions and many souls thrown
to the maws of the rotten husks while the beasts of darkness
feasted on their flesh and bones the will of She Who Laughs-
With Arrows was done

By now, many where
the people living at Sacred Spawn and their homes of dirt,
wood and stone decorated the once empty hills
of this blessed and fertile land with slender paths worming
through the grassy fields. Who among the mortals
could bring about calamity? It was the words of a one
named Ilokia, follower of Kiara of the Luxurious Garments,
who boldly did proclaim

-Why must men of the earth
worship those on the sky? Their arms are of diamond
but their will are of glass Nothing is there to gain
from building in their name let us rest instead,
and live life as we see fit-. No voices contested his quarrel,
some fools even agreed But those above did hear
the insolent proclamations and armed with fulgurant fury,
the God Dog descended.

The blight of death trails
her blazing path through clouds rays of moonlight reflecting
from her gritting, shining teeth her powerful fists shake,
already clenched, holding the reigns of the massive, fiery beasts
who pulled her igneous carriage. Thus, with great anger
she strikes and wounds the land and from the depths Korone,
Collector of Fingers, howls. To bring about the will
of She Who Never Sleeps

Those who fiercely stood
with the words of mad Ilokia were drawn to the cave's depths,
as if they were in a dream while disease covered their bodies,
and to darkness they were turned cursed to not live, not here nor there
like sand between fingers never serving of their own will
to those they had offended The Endermen of Yubicraft
dispersed through the land and that same night they
set forth to Sacred Spawn

The moon and stars of old
have not risen to their place stopped on their celestial tracks
by the Rabbit's Great General Only torches cover the ground
with their faint and ghastly glow held in place by sweating hands
of the people who do gaze far beyond the city walls,
into darkness and despair Great conmotion and alarm
as the bells begin to ring There are eyes beyond the trees
glowing bright, death they bring

Awakes the warrior Revinel
from his ill advised sleep and soon he wears his vestiments,
iron cuirass, leather greaves A sword of stone on each hand,
he storms outside the carrot farm A running child approaches him,
wearing blue Atlantean clothes -Tell child, of your sorrows,
what brings about such distress?- -Oh Revinel, creeper-slayer,
first of the bodan race The ones missed have now returned,
your arm is needed in Sacred Spawm

Nimble as a deer his run,
brave as a lion his stare the bodan of the rattling arrows
prepares his bow and fires The Endermen at the walls
cannot be hit by his true shots
They appear as they vanish
with the swiftness of a blink
and they break into the city
taking pieces of the battlements
Their hands drag the blocks
holes are now riddling the wall
Yet they leave in shy silence
it now starts a great nightmare