Babylon of Serpent Fire

There is no right to provocation
Tibet has its right to liberation
What right have thee, to olive leaves?
Among the hallowed Himalayan eves

Thou hath, savaged distant lands
And you have felt the sting of man
Sultans seeds the serpent fire
Quest of fools, I’ll call you a liar

And when we meet at magito pass
Satan, I’m servant of the living god
So you can kiss my ass
And I shall applaud the living god

May the living god, seal the door where evil dwells
Where the hoe of Babylon lies in wait
Heaven knows to seal her fate
Earthly bound, and heavenly yield

Thou have the power to relent
And yet you cling to money spent
Two pence and six eights
Seal our selfish desire, before it is too late!

| Poetry 1 | Poetry 2 | Poetry 3 | Poetry 4 |

| Poetry 5 | Poetry 6 | Poetry 7 | Poetry 8 |

| Poetry 9 | Poetry 10 | Poetry 11 | Poetry 12 |

| Poetry 13 | Poetry 14 | Poetry 15 | Poetry 16 |

| Poetry 17 |

Copyright © Darryn John Murphy