Burn Babylon

May Babylon burn
And so her dear gardens, 
May her high ivory towers fall
And so her elegant fountains,
May the cedar and oak be no more
And no release nor rest may come
For your faces, tired and scorched.

May the jackal and the hyena 
Run after you, when you'll be exhausted 
At the oasis doors, under the evening shade
And may no rest be 
Through your nights ever again.

May the sky turn red 
And the darkness be violated,
By frightening thunders
And unending silences. 

May Babylon burn
May her temple be destroyed,
And the altar incense turn into dust.
While your ephemeral oaths
Be shaken by the everdevouring doubt.
May your tomb be uncovered,
And tainted by thistles and nettles. 

May your hearts ache in your chests.
And your mouth be filled of absinthe
Any time you'll be calling your lovers
For them to lay and for you to tremble.

Why? 

Because you preferred comfort to justice,
The golden throne to Golgotha climbing

What masks will you be wearing in Josafat's valley?
What lie will you be pretending to be the truth at that time?
That you did because it was your job?
That the choice was not up to you?

Then you'll be judged, not for what you did,
But for all you avoided to do.
For all those hours wasted watching the ceiling,
Smoking your soul in spoon dosages.
For all the time you spent wearing faces
Which were not meant for you.
For the chasm you carved into your chests
And you never dared to see it through.

For all that, you'll pay,
And you'll pay it dearly and all.
Even for other people's sins
For those whose calls you used to ignore.

With bitter tears and gnashing teeth
You'll be walking on your past life's ashes.
Waiting for a sentence that won't ever come,
to release you from what you've done.
Praying for a penance that won't correct the evil past

And that will be what you deserve.

May Babylon burn,
May burn it all down.