Babylon In Wretched Reanimation
Heretical and blasphemous,
A teet of sour milk!
High heaven lost beyond the hill—
We’re Satan’s sordid ilk!
Too contentious! God declared;
My holiness is pure!
Defilement is a fallen bent,
Which has no known cure!
Babylon is rising up!
Commanding all the sky!
Judah’s lion, in a cage—
Tormented by and by.
A compass broken on the ground,
Directionless and dazed,
A paralysed morality,
In morbid magic crazed!
What deviltry is this I spy?
Within mine roving gaze?
Jesus Christ, forsaken, gone,
A God of bygone days.
The whore of Babylon runs free!
Enticing men with ease,
In Sheol’s lightless bed they lie—
And capture her disease!
With babes upon a poisoned tit,
A doleful succour this,
The host of heaven loathe to touch,
This crime in the abyss.
The Jesus formed to light our way,
Is in the crypt again!
Woebegone, with untold grief,
At these, our fallen men.
The gravity towards the grave,
A brazen, leaden weight!
A massive might one cannot fight,
Or duly dissipate.
A schizophrenia ensues—
The voices of the damned,
From in the pit, so dankly lit,
And full with bodies crammed.
The thrall of dark perversity—
A Christ resistant sow,
The bitter pill of wanton will;
I call her master now!
The hope of heaven, long forgot,
It’s on the devil’s teet we’ll rot,
In bondage — to the end of time,
A desecrated, guilty lot…
AD Lovkis, 11/08/25
adamdaniel 