Kali Yuga

There is a voluptuous woman lying naked on a crimson fur carpet, her mouth open to devour the world and her eyes bitter gold and savage as a snake's. She is a queen-the Queen of all Lands-and the Harlot of Babylon. She wears only a crown of Lily-of-the-Valley wreathed in hair smoky and iridescent as a dream melting in the first light of dawn.
Eunuchs crouch around the dais in worship, chanting their blind adoration for the woman and she soaks it all up, all of it, like honey and cocoanut milk running free from the leaves of exotic plants into the waiting mouths of the starved. How they wish to couple with her! To join with her and be seduced into the encompassing maw of the dragon, pulled deeply into her delusions of splendor and the vortex of her desire!
Their genitals were severed from them as children specifically so that they could serve. They are no longer capable of the act of sex; they feel no sparkling waterfall of lust. None of them will ever hold a baby son or daughter in their arms.
(Procreation is redeeming, and there is no redemption in this poisoned land with it's poisoned queen.)
The eunuchs continue groveling, and the queen is bathed in the light of a thousand stars dying. Serpents band her wrists and waist, and silver bells tinkle individual tolls of doom. The land outside is as crimson as the fur she lies upon, cracked and parched. The only living things left on this arid world are contained within the walls of this palace. The moon rises cold outside, and the queen lifts up her hands full of blood, laughing joyfully.