Babylon
Trying to collect the words, the right words
To describe it all, to see beyond the wall
The walls, of the darkness and the gloom
The paradise amid the doom!?
Doomed it seems, it seems to me
To see, to see beyond the trees....
Thorns, born, torn; piercing my heart, my eyes
Forever darkening skies; this place, this world
History has spoken loud; a blood drenched cloud
Pouring its pain, its endless rain....
Upon all whom have lived, from the beginning of its day
Few have escaped, its shadow draped
A curtain hiding the truth....
But what is truth; truth?!
Roses to thorns, from the time that we're born
Tattered and torn, trying to collect the right words
What words? Could they ever explain, the pages or the pain
These words that they say, that have never changed
That have always remained, their constant....
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....What is truth, here, in, Babylon!?
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