enemyat_thesix

Birds borne on broken wings
Cast from heaven to drink asphalt
And nest upon the crowns of kings.

Dirge and hymn alike both bring
The waves, the masses, crashing in,
Born to drown beneath the din.

Hosts of limbs and rotting things
Descend from clouds in waves to plague
And nest upon the crowns of kings.

A thousand voices swell to sing,
But empty hearts weave feeble hymns,
Born to drown beneath the din.

Heaven weeps and angels cringe;
Crows rejoice and beat their wings
And nest upon the crowns of kings.

Babylon now sleeps with Him,
While roots swallow the once-living,
Born to drown beneath the din,
And nest upon the crowns of kings.

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