Ancient Israel, in a valley steep and hot,
Promises of ease and comfort were pursued,
On a bastard altar of man’s own hand,
While drumbeats hid the anguished cries.
In Topheth are found molded earthen jars,
Buried in Ben-Hinnom’s filth,
Attesting that olden greed with pleas,
Bodies of burned children.
The Ancient One did not expect,
Such savageness from his love made art.
He condemned those passing babies to flame,
And pledged his final turn on the tolerant.
Solomon, Manasseh, Amom and Ahaz,
Crumbled from neglect,
While Judah, Benjamin and Ephraim,
Were told to cry to their own creations.
Yet still questions echo from the stars,
Does insolence, smugness and esteem,
Negate the ancient pledge,
Or silence the earthen jars?
In wonder we watch,
Our realm’s past glory fade,
Yet fail heed the blood-soaked hordes from Babylon,
Amassing at the gate.
Promises of ease and comfort were pursued,
On a bastard altar of man’s own hand,
While drumbeats hid the anguished cries.
In Topheth are found molded earthen jars,
Buried in Ben-Hinnom’s filth,
Attesting that olden greed with pleas,
Bodies of burned children.
The Ancient One did not expect,
Such savageness from his love made art.
He condemned those passing babies to flame,
And pledged his final turn on the tolerant.
Solomon, Manasseh, Amom and Ahaz,
Crumbled from neglect,
While Judah, Benjamin and Ephraim,
Were told to cry to their own creations.
Yet still questions echo from the stars,
Does insolence, smugness and esteem,
Negate the ancient pledge,
Or silence the earthen jars?
In wonder we watch,
Our realm’s past glory fade,
Yet fail heed the blood-soaked hordes from Babylon,
Amassing at the gate.
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