Babylon Has Fallen Poem by Raymond Farrell

When great feasting
overflowing with lascivious pleasure
swiftly agitated to fever pitch
by the wine's deceitful grip
turned to ashen gray trembling sobriety
by the hand writing on the wall
then were brought forth
from every revered institution
academics of every known persuasion
but all the wealth and status promised
could coax no meaning
from closed minds
unable to see a kingdom
swept away before their eyes
and who are we
to suggest
we have learned anything from history
sitting complacently
with our chins resting in our hands
boasting of shelf upon shelf
of historical volumes
written after the cold fact
by those hot with passion
embittered beyond commonsense
and proud beyond reason
thousands of opinions
infested with slanted views
dulling the message and distorting
the lesson to be learned
but on the desert
sands part briefly
to reveal ancient ruins
which speak louder
than anything
of what has transpired.

Our pilgrimage must not be
to a city vast and wide
with thick walls, brazen gates, hanging gardens
rich vineyards, golden images
basking in imperial glory
instead, let us gladly go
to this monumental heap of ruins
where might and pride lie buried
under shifting dunes of sand
to learn vital lessons
not found in countless volumes
cleverly contrived by biased academics.