"nineveh" poems
Mr Jonah was sent to Nineveh
He head out but took a detour
Now in the belly of the beast.
Mr Jonah cannot change things overnight
Says his town's men
Who will Carry or move anything
Without power?
Obviously no one, so we need power
They also said;
That's not possible overnight.
Our palm oil is dry
No groundnut oil to fry
Nobody is buying our powerful oil
Yet we have to sell before we boil
If we don't sell something
We will not eat anything.
Our children are misbehaving
Is this the future we are saving?
Will Mr Jonah build a place
Full of tutors?
Well,that's not possible overnight
Cows everywhere
Is there no one to check these cows?
Mr check cow is busy
Burning our farms and farmers
Mr Jonah cannot stop Mr check cow
Not overnight.
365 days make a year
How many years make an overnight?
The writer coughs;
6 years makes one night.
Wait o, is 6years overnight?
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 4:41 AM UTC
Everything works better in the cold.
The vacuum of space fuels
perfection, zero point
energy yielding limitless.
Orbital and quantum mechanics,
these mysteries of ordered
chaos, the compression of
external combustion that
defies and evades physics,
were solved and forgotten
long ago.
Humans invented time to measure
everything, but now don't
know what the numbers mean.
The Nineveh Number has
lost its purpose, much like
we have lost its meaning.
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 9:51 PM UTC
God of our fathers, known of old—
Lord of our far-flung battle line—
Beneath whose awful hand we hold
Dominion over palm and pine—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
The tumult and the shouting dies—
The Captains and the Kings depart—
Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice,
An humble and a contrite heart.
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
Far-called our navies melt away—
On dune and headland sinks the fire—
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday
Is one with Nineveh and Tyre!
Judge of the Nations, spare us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
If, drunk with sight of power, we loose
Wild tongues that have not Thee in awe—
Such boastings as the Gentiles use,
Or lesser breeds without the Law—
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet,
Lest we forget—lest we forget!
For heathen heart that puts her trust
In reeking tube and iron shard—
All valiant dust that builds on dust,
And guarding calls not Thee to guard.
For frantic boast and foolish word,
Thy Mercy on Thy People, Lord!
Amen.
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All this criticism, persecution,
Hatred, scorn,
Thrown towards us,
Two women,
Two men,
Immoral relationship they say,
Against God's word,
That's not the way He wanted it,
But one woman, two men,
Two women, one man,
Nothing's wrong with that,
16 year old teenage girl sleeping with the married man,
Nothing's said about them,
And if something's said, it's done in whispers,
Rumshop or evening gossip,
But me,
Harsh words are thrown my way,
No one cares about the tears they cause,
But when the woman down the road slept with my ex-husband,
I deserved it because I did not do enough to keep him,
They say,
But when I had a one night stand with the woman from the other town,
Words were thrown my way,
Why?
Because when I have ***
There's no product formed from the substrate,
Or because when two products come together, there's no reaction,
Othan than multiple ******* caused by erogenous pleasure,
Or because I use toys,
And you need none,
Or is it because God made Adam and Eve,
And destroyed ***** and Gomorrah,
But he did not make Adam and Eve and the next door neighbour Steve,
And last time I checked he was on the merge of destroying Nineveh.
You say we destroy the definition of marriage or family,
But the contraceptives you use contribute to Global Warming,
Which sounds better?
A home started by a relationship like mine,
Or an Earth that's on the merge of dying?
They say,
That relationships like mine add nothing to society,
But relationships like yours cause fatherless homes,
Contributing to prostitution and gang wars,
Or multiple abortions before the age of 25,
Talking about my acts of erogenous pleasure causing no reaction, no creation,
But relationships like yours cause abortions,
Destruction of life, right in the middle of creation,
You call it abortion I call it ******
Termination of life,
So who's the criminal?
But because of the sexuality placed upon me,
I'm persecuted,
I'm scrutinized,
Verbally abused,
And people like you are easily accepted,
But don't forget,
I'm the product of a heterosexual relationship.
Jul 17, 2011
Jul 17, 2011 at 10:49 AM UTC
JESUS emptied the devils of one man into forty hogs and the hogs took the edge of a high rock and dropped off and down into the sea: a mob.
The sheep on the hills of Australia, blundering fourfooted in the sunset mist to the dark, they go one way, they hunt one sleep, they find one pocket of grass for all.
Karnak? Pyramids? Sphinx paws tall as a coolie? Tombs kept for kings and sacred cows? A mob.
Young roast pigs and naked dancing girls of Belshazzar, the room where a thousand sat guzzling when a hand wrote: Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin? A mob.
The honeycomb of green that won the sun as the Hanging Gardens of Nineveh, flew to its shape at the hands of a mob that followed the fingers of Nebuchadnezzar: a mob of one hand and one plan.
Stones of a circle of hills at Athens, staircases of a mountain in Peru, scattered clans of marble dragons in China: each a mob on the rim of a sunrise: hammers and wagons have them now.
Locks and gates of Panama? The Union Pacific crossing deserts and tunneling mountains? The Woolworth on land and the Titanic at sea? Lighthouses blinking a coast line from Labrador to Key West? Pigiron bars piled on a barge whistling in a fog off Sheboygan? A mob: hammers and wagons have them to-morrow.
The mob? A typhoon tearing loose an island from thousand-year moorings and bastions, shooting a volcanic ash with a fire tongue that licks up cities and peoples. Layers of worms eating rocks and forming loam and valley floors for potatoes, wheat, watermelons.
The mob? A jag of lightning, a geyser, a gravel mass loosening...
The mob ... kills or builds ... the mob is Attila or Ghengis Khan, the mob is Napoleon, Lincoln.
I am born in the mob-I die in the mob-the same goes for you-I don't care who you are.
I cross the sheets of fire in No Man's land for you, my brother-I slip a steel tooth into your throat, you my brother-I die for you and I **** you-It is a twisted and gnarled thing, a crimson wool:
One more arch of stars,
In the night of our mist,
In the night of our tears.
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#ክብረ ነገሥት
*Oh Sovereign of wisdom Solomonic,
forgive us. The wicked wax demonic.
Golden vessels fill with foulness
man is bankrupt, sold and soulless
Unsettling harbingers loom dystopian.
Sheba rises in dreams Ethiopian.*
Tested with questions, her spirit once gone,
occultic suggestions postponed her dawn.
(Six-hundred and sixty-six talents of gold
paid Nineveh’s rise as Messiah foretold.
Go read it in Matthew, obstinate sinner
You think He intends to have Satan the winner?)
Her ruins now surveyed by satellite
beheld on the screens of the Canaanite:
canals to expose, southern deserts to cross,
Eritrean legends of Prophet (and loss),
the Ark of King Menelik—Kebra Negast,
treasures of darkness presented, now past
have us checking those texts that worldlings despise
as we wait under dread Luciferian skies.
Break the sixth seal of the seventh scroll;
let the thirteenth angel spill the bowl !
(or smoke it up in the courts of Heaven
till ganja’s infinitude totals seven…)
Exhume Axum with the ****** of Marib.
decode the encryption on Adam’s rib
unearthed from some Antediluvian ravine—
Blast from the past: she explodes on our scene!
Seven oaths shall be sworn on her spectral beauty
(our Biblical transcendental duty).
The libation is mixed. Are we ready to swill it?
Beersheba? She brew ! Let us rise to fulfill it.
from sita to Saba fifth columns are ready:
Oh Sovereign — render their pillars unsteady.
For after explosions there’s mess to clean up,
and it’s worse than the horrors inside of her cup.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 9:47 AM UTC
It's Sunday again for you cloistered patricians
aloof from the madness, the magic and myth;
who trust in your wisdom, investments, physicians
unready to answer forthwith:
"Why bother with worship—in church or the zoo—
why weaken the links with a dull set of tools ?"
you ask yourself over your high-end Tarrazu,
bemused at the fables of fools.
You've bartered salvation for New York Times articles,
sipping on bitterness (shade-grown organic).
You settle for molecules, atoms and particles
unfairly-traded, satanic—
while you celebrate emptiness, general futility
musing on nothingness, sure of specifics
ensconced in your kitchen of pampered gentility
flirting with atheist physics.
Those simple plebeians: you'd love to enlighten them
help them, like you, to become a free-thinker
but you remain tasteful, for boldness might frighten them
reeling in fairy tales: hook, line and sinker.
Yet somebody, somewhere has uttered your sentence
(though you abhor judgement, let's read it again).
Sheba and Nineveh, versed in repentance
await you—not whether but when.
The darkness is brewing unholy filtration;
the wine of the harlot approaches the rim;
your guilt is augmenting in slow percolation;
you shrug it all off on a whim.
The souls of Assyria rise from your paper
they watch in amazement, prepare your abyss.
Your coffee now brims a more sulfurous vapor;
oh sinner—there's something amiss:
The crypts of Marib and the tombs of the Axumites
shudder and groan while you're reading the Times...
(immune to the words that some Christarded poet writes
mixing psychosis with rhymes.)
Royal Sheba will chastise your erudite unbelief,
smug self-importance and cynical squawk.
Then she'll sigh with immense Ethiopian grief
and her Highness Queen Bilqis will talk.
It is Sunday in Babylon. What if your sunlight ends...
why are there mobs in the streets of the nation?
Shall you have breakfast—or calculate dividends...
what would you pay for salvation?
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 10:30 AM UTC
I
LOCKE sank into a swoon;
The Garden died;
God took the spinning-jenny
Out of his side.
II
Where got I that truth?
Out of a medium's mouth.
Out of nothing it came,
Out of the forest loam,
Out of dark night where lay
The crowns of Nineveh.
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Somewhere, it seems as if the hidden, almost Apocryphal-smelling locks of Life are starting to open again; hunger and greedy thirst are following in its wake. The human shadows, like walnut kernels, carefully peel the rarely revealed one-essence from the slave back, as if everyone is waiting for the deliberate fall of their unsuspecting victims. Like tiger claws, the scornful sins of rejections and unworthy attitudes bite a person one after another, with which he can hardly do anything.
Because the World would crush everyone sympathetically a little, if it did not watch in readiness forever, as if a buzzing ant swarm penetrated the networks of blood vessels unnoticed. Because sooner or later, the mere Soul also rebels against its servant, the gaping of its instincts becomes arrhythmic. Even now, in a dazed stupor, this city with the smell of Nineveh slumbers like a drunken beast, which - it may seem - denies itself a little in exchange for petty, flattering benefits at every age, its compromising actions come face to face with man, and everything reveals how much easier it would have been to act differently, in a different way.
- In the grimace-games of dimples, the age histories of wrinkles get stuck halfway, which tell of shipwrecked childhoods... Something still rings better in a holey bag, and something just rings like a sound; making a big deal has become fashionable, just like unadorned, provocative ****** so that the number of viewers always brings the daily quota profit, the grass of innocence, like some unknown marijuana derivative, always rots. It may seem impossible to walk the peaks of silence that have become songless.
Sep 18, 2025
Sep 18, 2025 at 12:16 AM UTC
There was a man of old, Jonah was his name
God gave this man a message, Doom he would proclaim
-
Jonah didn’t want to go…to Nineveh he’s sent
If Jehovah says…there’s no argument
-
"Yet forty days then Doom"…so did Jonah cry
Nineveh repented, spared Judgment from on High
-
Think this a story, just a ferry tail?
Doom is coming to this land, you will weep and howl and wail
-
Nineveh repented, this nation sure will not
You should have learned should have learned, learned what Jonah taught
Jan 9, 2015
Jan 9, 2015 at 3:47 AM UTC
I’ll mimic Matterhorn or the worn ways we window gaze and swipe left
or turn right on the green light of another cliche
If you swear gray is all the shades you’ll
put on lamps to match the grayscale duvet
Then catch me if you cat o’ nine tails
a swallowed whale,
We swear with chapped lips a waterworn promise
Maybe the Amish had it right and we’re a little bit snobbish.
I’ll Jack O’Lantern your etch-a-sketch erotica,
Not much scarier, these days, trick or treat.
Q-tips got your tongue? I’ll Question where you Came From 4 as long i Chan.
You don’t leave the house anymore except for groceries.
Catch me if you cat o’ nine tails
a swallowed whale,
Nineveh won’t wait, it’s time to break bread with danger and death.
Jan 17, 2021
Jan 17, 2021 at 11:55 PM UTC
The spiraling snakes would now like to devour the entire World; nuclear fission may increase the actual value of mortalities in the eyes of "some" - of course as unnecessary collateral losses -, a white condensation trail inevitably passes over a person's head, left by some luxury private plane while reaching Earth orbit. The rule of the constantly suspicious sentries that remain open still returns now and then.
At the last moment, perhaps after five hundred years, the Cyclops-brained titans enriched with testosterone, who have deliberately forgotten the proper manners, the conditions of behavioral codes, the eloquent ins and outs of compliments, will also become extinct; anniversary rings are driven through broken or white diamond wedding rings, because fewer and fewer of them can only truly experience the feelings of the Universe, which alone reside unnoticed in the depths of beating hearts.
They grow respectable beer bellies not only It's pounding, but it's quite a lot, gentlemen Pál Pató, and while the great gentleman's party-dario, bolsoly-babysitter is going on, it's as if everyone is no longer able to bear the enriched, concentrated half-hearted appearance-happiness.
- The city of Nineveh, which has long surrendered to partying, is thus becoming an increasingly sinkable Atlantis, a tiny island of nowhere, which at any moment - if they're not careful - can be swept away by the moving Danube. It would be better to head straight in the opposite, more vulnerable directions, because now everyone is considered a bit of a good actor in fair-boy comedies; what is failure and success at the same time was actually a lesson and a make-up exam! One day - in any case - he will be forced to take off his mask and become a shameless clown!
Sep 24, 2025
Sep 24, 2025 at 12:33 AM UTC
Mommy lying next to my children,
All three fast asleep,
Not before I had shared with them a story.
During the brightness of the day I had lied in the shadow of a tree,
The thought of Adam in the Garden of Eden came to me.
No houses.
No cars.
No airplanes.
No television.
No computers.
No phones!
Just the animals on land and in the sea, God and Adam and...
Then came Eve.
That came to an abrupt end when they ate of the forbidden fruit talked into by that snake!
As if that was not enough Cain did away with Abel!
Many years went by from Noah to Abraham to Jonah,
Whom God commanded to demand repentance from Nineveh.
Reluctantly is an understatement,
But nonetheless reluctantly Jonah did so,
Not before he supplicated to God in the belly of the beast for...
You know the story!
More years went by to a time when a Persian king forbade a man to communicate with thee Almighty.
That man did so openly only to repose with the lions and an angel.
I speak, of course, of Daniel!
I moved time along for mommy and my two children to the time of the God man,
He who was obedient to the very death on a tree and rose in three!
Mommy lying next to my children,
All three fast asleep before me,
Now the lamp is off and the nightlight is on,
May the one who is our all in all protect thee!
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 11:45 AM UTC
Ancient scenes carved in stone
Show us the beards of Babylon -
Land-locked and mythic
In the fertile crescent of desert rivers,
Their reliefs find the ancient faces
Adorned with the finest groomed beards in antiquity -
In the ruins of Nineveh and Ur,
Crowned heads hold distinctive locks -
Shared by the flowing chins -
All with strands of coils -
Long and barrel-thick -
Braided together with skills they discovered
In the ether of unwritten history.
Depictions of kings fighting their legendary battles -
Frozen in the stiff stills of chosen poses -
Storyboarded for an anticipated future -
The deeds are incomplete as found -
Damaged by time and jealous men -
And all I remember are the beards.
Winged Annunaki standing tall,
Hold strange repose inside a wall -
Buried for centuries since they stood,
Amongst scattered tools of stone and wood -
Their legs are spread in a conical stance -
Their elbows and wrists were bent in a dance -
Fingers cupped around an oblong cone -
Each pointed towards ears of a supplicant one -
While the arms at their sides hold a bag by a strap,
Only dreams can provide the meanings they map -
One scene is carved with all human faces -
Where the beards are thick with fully coiled laces,
But another variation of a similar scene,
Show Annunaki faces that a bird would preen -
With bulbous eyes and curved hawk-like beaks,
Where beards won't grow, on bas reliefs.
Mysteries may follow damaged relics of the past,
But the Babylonian beards will always last.
Ad infinitum. Ad astra.
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
After Jonah got out of the whale, he went to the city of Nineveh and warned the Ninevites.
He told them that God was going to destroy them because they weren't doing what was right.
God was going to destroy them in forty days because of the evil they had done in the present and the past.
The King heeded the warning and he and everybody else covered themselves with sackcloth and began to fast.
The Ninevites turned from their evil ways after they were warned.
God saw that they had changed and he was no longer scorned.
God spared the Ninevites because they were no longer unfit.
Jehovah isn't a harsh God and that sure did prove it.
May 3, 2016
May 3, 2016 at 5:02 PM UTC
Love,
trust,
the color of the sky
after you give it a name,
simple because it's not,
just words
you live outside of,
somewhere a sentence can't reach.
Castle girl, rapunzel rapunzel,
let me down gently,
the crocodiles in the moat,
each word,
a yellowing tooth.
Will you pry open the door?
Crowbar to the problem and
the sweat beading at your temples?
Escape means nothing.
3 days, 3 nights, the world
swallowed me up and spit me out,
thinking I'd learned my lesson,
slitting my wrists on the road to nineveh.
I pray to god all night.
I shout at god all night.
I cry to god all night.
Why does this dark eat at me,
the days like lead in my chest?
I pray to god,
prey to god,
the silence that carried me into november
and the thought planted in the back of my mind:
maybe I deserve this.
Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 6:35 PM UTC
**Ah! City of bloodshed,
utterly deceitful , full of booty --
no end to the plunder!
The crack of whip and rumble of wheel,
galloping horse and bounding chariot!
Horsemen charging , flashing sword and glittering spear,
piles of dead, heaps of corpses,
dead bodies without end --- they stumble over the bodies!
Because of the countless debaucheries of the **********
gracefully alluring , mistress of sorcery, who enslaves ! nations
through her debaucheries, and peoples through her sorcery,
I am against you,says the Lord of hosts,
and will lift up your skirts over your face;
and I will let nations look on your nakedness.
and kingdoms on your shame.
I will throw filth at you and treat you with contempt,
and make you a spectacle.
Then all who see you will shrink from you and say,
"Nineveh is devastated, who will bemoan her?"
Where shall I seek comforters for you?**
Feb 29, 2016
Feb 29, 2016 at 6:53 AM UTC
It was the way she looked at me when I first met her
Her eyes had a dangerous calmness
They were like the big ocean under the clear blue sky
An unending expanse of beauty with the sun dancing playfully on her waves
Even the wind blew silently as if to not awake her from her afternoon nap.
If Jonah had sailed across, I bet he would have continued to Nineveh.
I always wondered what it would feel like to swim across through the stillness
And feel the layers of water caress my skin as I listen to the warmth of the music from her waves.
Or what it would feel like to dive into the cradle of her very depth
And see the beauty that she held within, hidden safely from the fangs of the outside world.
I wanted to see what would make her dance like a mad woman in the market square
Or what would rile her and set her off like a whirlwind in the desert.
But, i am a shy man and i could not hold her gaze.
©Maathe
Jul 21, 2022
Jul 21, 2022 at 3:35 PM UTC
Perhaps the always Faithful Mirror has already become a Traitor;
the structure of movements and
faces does not show only the essence struck by the stamp!
We cross the stage and bravely defy danger on board decaying boards!
Secrets are still hidden in the degree of surprise minutes
and waiting for suitable eruptions!
It is the deserving shadow of happiness that is happening in us!
- The smile-tear clown bathes his face in a silent moon mirror!
"Indifferent and idiot-producing phlegmatism greets you!"
The disgust of our selfish concealment can easily settle on others;
to the smell of our prey overwhelmed by success-seeking breakers;
how long does the silly age of hungarians go on?!
Prophets would already flee Nineveh
because their bribed mission had become angry!
********** Angels like killing knives,
spoiled knife-spoons and broken refractions!
Everyone is laying their cages more and more,
because Happiness always takes another
hard-to-heal wounds; indelible stigma!
Fence, Slut-In time, the final maze path
can also be easily solved:
Start s End in front of the same gate
often that's why we stumble!
Wells that are overzealous on our bitter,
unhappy faces are hanging True Pearls!
"We should have deliberately escaped this sensational,
continuous squirrel wheel world!"
A broken World is behind us!
As a hesitant lamb, anyone among the hordes can tear apart;
we walk the field of our existence as orphaned wanderers;
in our throats the redeeming Death throbs…
Feb 26, 2021
Feb 26, 2021 at 2:33 AM UTC
To Nineveh was sent, a Prophet of the Lord
Yet 40 days then Doom, you'll receive your just reward
-
Nineveh repented, spared Judgement from On High
That was then and this is now, you can still hear Jonah's cry
-
Repent this nation won't, so get ready to be burned
In atomic fire you'll die, Jonah's message you have spurned
-
And after you're done burning, from the Fire of the Bomb
You will burn in Hell forever, and I won't have a qualm
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 5:10 AM UTC
If I were to gather my courage I would gladly be comforted among the rose petals of my lips; the cherished Universe, as a kind, caring Mother, would extend her sacrificial arms for me and comfort her with her kisses! Our wonderful words would wander into our eyes in the tunnels of secret telepathies; phenomenally laughing stars!
"I know I'm still strangely ridiculous today, and yet the eccentric inertia of men in love as men in love;" I would protect myself from self-damaging disappointments and yet cling to the tropical atmosphere of love tendrils!
In the selfish depths of my childish soul, patience is wasting patience! Thinned hugs revolve around Procrustean beds, like notched knives! Disturbed innermost compulsion is chasing me to confess with open mouths of surprise to many who thought they were not even known!
"Pebbles of stars stared into the black water of my eyes!" - Silence will be a white spot! In my weeded life, I match myself; the transient Time stretches itself to the bone wings of heaven as a victim! Every kiss will show golden figs, I just haven't noticed so far?
As the rootless flower, the moon is in the water of the sky! The dream stumbles at the moment of imaginary surprise plans, and blinded rainbows run at the crossroads! Toothless traps make this ********** Laugh laugh! - Crushed silence anesthetized for a long time, even the Humpback of Humanity! Under the stepping, half-silver shadow of the Moon surrounds the unbearable visions of the Future of Nineveh.
Feb 5, 2021
Feb 5, 2021 at 3:03 AM UTC
God came upon Jonah
one night in a dream
said, " preach against Ninevah
It's sins i have seen"
God's spirit went one way
but Johna the other
he jumped on a boat
and hid under cover
The seas got much bigger
as black thunder roared
the crew found out Johna
he was tossed over board
As Johna was drowning
he cried to the Lord
" please God save me
for it's you I adore "
God showed his compassion
and sent a big whale
that swallowed up Jonna
and to Nineveh kicked tail
Three days & three nights
the big fish did swim
it's belly full of cargo
Johna praying within
The lord heard his prayers
& gave a command
then up spat ole Johna
onto the dry land
God said again ,
" go to Ninveh and preach ,
that city full of people
my grace wants to reach "
So forward went Johna
to warn of God's wrath
and just as he feared
they turned from sins path
Those people weren't Hebrew
so Johna was jealous
that his God would save
a city so rebellious
Then God spoke to Johna
in the heat of the day
" you care more for shade
than sins washed away "
" why be greedy with me ?
I'm a saviour for all
don't put me in boxes
never run from my call "
" so when that day comes
that I ask you to go
don't be like ole Johna
and pull a no show "
" but be like that whale
that was ready to kick tail "
LPConvey2014
Mar 10, 2016
Mar 10, 2016 at 7:42 AM UTC
We are the Music-makers
And we are the dreamers of dreams
Wondering by lone sea-breakers
And sitting by desolate streams
World-losers and World-forsakers
Upon whom the pale moon gleams
Yet we are the movers and shakers
Or the world forever it seems.
With wonderful deathless ditties
We build up the worlds great cities
And out of a fabulous story
We fashion an Empires glory
One man with a dream, at pleasure
Shall go forth and conquer a crown
And three with a new songs measure
Can trample an empire down.
We, in the ages lying
In the buried past of the earth
Built Nineveh with our sighing
And Babel itself with our minds
And O'er-threw them with our prophesying
To the old of the new world's worth
For each age is a dream that is dying
Or one that is coming to birth .
Oct 4, 2018
Oct 4, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC