Babel

A ziggurat of dreams, a spire so tall,

Reached for the heavens, answering freedom's call. 

Brick upon brick, a testament to might,

A single tongue, a shared and burning light. 

But envy stirred, a serpent in the clay,

As unity's bright promise started to decay. 

The powers at hand, with jealous, watchful eyes,

Saw in that tower a threat to their own lies. 

A people bound, a strength they couldn't tame,

A common purpose, whispering freedom's name. 

So whispers spread, of discord and of doubt,

A fractured language, scattering the shout. 

The mortar crumbled, under poisoned rain,

As tongues diverged, and Babel felt the pain. 

Confusion reigned, where harmony had stood,

A shattered vision, misunderstood. 

The tower faltered, a testament to fear,

A monument to what could have been held dear. 

No longer brothers, building towards the sun,

But scattered tribes, their unity undone. 

The powers at hand, their wicked work complete,

Had silenced voices, bitter and bittersweet. 

And Babel's ruin stands, a stark and solemn sign,

Of unity destroyed, by malice so malign.

Ojmwolf - 2025