Words for words

lies falleth off the lips.

Babylon on high,

the fall is neigh.

Rubies will be let down the cliff. 


Whisper to whisper.

The lips divided the plot,

hands casted the lot.


The eastward wind,

and the westward wind,

played the flute.

The leave danced,

the heart of the trees had been soothe. 


Who can cry.

Who in the town has a gong,

let him beat off dust.

The end is here,

who will go first.

All that we see will soon be gone.


Who Can cry,

tell Babylon. 

It is over.

Zion is here.

Tell Babylon,

o ye criers with the gong.

That the end is near.

Tell Babylon,

that the trumpet would be blown,

not every one would hear.

Tell the sons to keep in pistis 

Theos only is to be feared. 

┬ęGodwin Okhuoya