The Plains of Babylon
They gather on the plains of Babylon.
“It's party-time dear friends!”, the invite reads.
“Let's shake it down and cross the Rubicon.”
“A stairway up to heaven is our need.”
The plots they thicken, artful plans are honed.
They build their zigurrat to breach the blue.
Bizarre bed-fellows meet and greet, combine
In shifting shapes to overthrow the throne.
“Rise up! Throw down! United we'll breakthrough.”
''Our destiny is to become divine.”
From high above the plains of Babylon
The angels see the tumults and misdeeds.
The rebel throngs sing out their rebel songs.
The angel hosts mount on their fiery steeds.
“Go to! Undo this fiendish, vile design.”
“The wicked we will scatter and pursue.”
“As chaff in winnowing, they will be blown,”
“Who sacrifice at that unholy shrine.”
The angel host with holy fury flew,
Nimrod's dread hordes became earth's dust, bare bone.
Of rebels and angels we tell, we tell.
There was a scattering at Babylon.
We gather together, With who? With who?