BABYLON WRECKED

A Poem by Yahya Oulad Aouid

Lethargic I awoke from my bed of thorns

A mirage before me, night with light adorned,

The night sinks the light, yet the sun shall arose

To those whose skull burns without a soul in repose,

Before a meadow we stood, under the nesting homes

I rest my case and unravel my woes for the wind that blows,

To East with the woes, to South with my wrath

Amidst the blood, Caesar gave glory a name on his path,

Chaldean I stand for the clouds are my grounds

I shake off dirt and to the music, I tiptoe my flirts,

The tears must have flowed overflowing flows

To the river before the verandah God for me chose,

Worn by a white gown, she hums the dusky songs

Atop the birch, two nightingales giggle, and she scorns,

Venus she is, yet her allegiance lies under Jupiter’s blazing shawls

Lightening struck the frightful, and from grace they fell to ferocious jaws,

The waters spread their arms, and I plunge in death’s haze

The light that amazes a man in a craze, a murderous blaze,

The moon burns my face albeit my necklace is of nightly beads

Charcoal burning my eyes, my soul nearly flees yet the heart shan’t freeze,

Purgatorial visions as my soul slips away, my throat soar yet I must stay

Till he whispers his love on the wake of day, and I lie atop hay,

Washed in providence, found in lively dismay

The executioner’s blade missed and i'm reposed on a mountainous sleigh,

Pebbles rushing to smooch my face, hounds running me astray

A wrapped up lily in a bouquet of a gown that’s grey, and I leap for day,

The warlord of my conquest, the savior of my doomed fate

Why late? Has the constellation aligned our hate?

Is it only in my wake that your seraphic beam shall loom on my strait?

Babylon soars against the winds, so does my dote for Mary’s rose

The garments eclipsing her claws are refuge to my abhorred flaws,

The composer of my flows, the master to the music of my soul

My rise and falls pardoned, yet the devil applauds,

Gripping me by the scaffold of my woes that scream

Unrooting the seeds of my thorns, redeeming me with a blow of steam,

I swing on trees in ape-like swiftness of spirit, till I get what I merit

When she flew up the crude staircase for the blade to inherit,

Astrate, my beloved, I yield to thy thunderous rage

I’ve knelt in your grace, now burn down my cage in a haste,

What is a man if not trapped in the mirage of his frailty

Babylon wrecked the core of a miser in fallacious satiety,

In his flights of passion, Bragi sung Odin his ode to gaiety

And in mine, I shall drum and hum to what I must flee, for eternity.

© 2025 Yahya Oulad Aouid

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register

Reviews

FlaLover

Beautifully choreographed and well written!
I am a little bit of a history buff so I really enjoyed reading this!

Posted 2 Weeks Ago

Amy R

This poem is quite rich in history and makes me wonder about life as well. It serves as a reflection on the duality of existence—life and death, hope and despair. Also exploring human conditions, blending rich imagery and sound with profound themes of struggle, redemption, and the search for meaning.

GREATLY WRITTEN,
-Amy

Posted 2 Weeks Ago

LisaCarol

I agree with Ern, this was exhilarating and epic. Once again, you’ve expanded my mind and thoughts. Such a pleasurable journey to read your writing.

Posted 3 Weeks Ago

2 Weeks Ago

Dear Lisa,

I am glad you've enjoyed this modest of work, your insightful impression i.. read more

Ern M. Yoshimoto

first i need to comment on the style. it was exhilirating and epic - the rhymes and internal rhymes were amazing, so well crafted. style alone this is a fantastic work.
thematically, this was also very interesting. the title suggests the end of civilization and the many references to gods from many cultures emphasise how nothing lasts forever. and the things we fight for today will seem bizzare to those who come after us. so i understand and identify with the final line - I shall drum and hum to what I must flee, for eternity... yes, that is apt advice.