Cruel Babylon Poem by Jerome Brooke

Thunder, cruel master, sounds far away,
Ashes blow in the sky.
Fear walks the street, cries ring out,
Filling the empty square.

Tremors move the land, the valley,
Of death and desolation.
Death walks the winding streets,
All is barren, all is lost.

Lava flows near, fires rise and dance,
Ending desperate life.
Hope slowly dies, life departs,
Death reaches out.

Red chariots fill the square, troops fire,
Then fall back.
Iron arrows fill the way, iron sharp,
Hard, and fleet.