The head of the statue was pure gold, the chest and arms were silver, the belly and hips were bronze,
the legs were iron, and the feet were an iron-ceramic mixture.
While you were looking at this statue, a stone cut out of a mountain by an invisible hand hit the statue, smashing its iron-ceramic feet.
Then the whole thing fell to pieces - iron, tile, bronze, silver, and gold, smashed to bits. It was like scraps of old newspapers in a vacant lot in a hot dry summer, blown every which way by the wind, scattered to oblivion. But the stone that hit the statue became a huge mountain, dominating the horizon.
This was your dream.
You, O king, are the most powerful king on earth. The God of heaven has given you the works: rule, power, strength, and glory.
He has put you in charge of men and women, wild animals and birds, all over the world - you're the head ruler, you are the head of gold.
But your rule will be taken over by another kingdom, inferior to yours, and that one by a third, a bronze kingdom, but still ruling the whole land,
and after that by a fourth kingdom, iron-like in strength. Just as iron smashes things to bits, breaking and pulverizing, it will bust up the previous kingdoms.
"But then the feet and toes that ended up as a mixture of ceramic and iron will deteriorate into a mongrel kingdom with some remains of iron in it. Just as the toes of the feet were part ceramic and part iron,
it will end up a mixed bag of the breakable and unbreakable.
That kingdom won't bond, won't hold together any more than iron and clay hold together.