All Hails to Babylon Rising

All Hails to Babylon Rising

(A Performance Poem)

All hails to Babylon rising,

From the dust, from the ruins,

A city of gold that we forgot,

A forgotten legend reawakening,

A dream from a past too grand for memory,

Now rising in the echoes of time,

In the pulse of the earth's heartbeat.

Do you hear it?

The whispers of ancient kings,

The clatter of chariots on cobblestone,

The scent of incense, heavy and thick,

The call of a thousand voices,

Calling us home,

Calling us back to Babylon.

All hails to Babylon,

Where the rivers once ran like veins,

Carrying blood, sweat, and stories,

Where gardens bloomed under starlit skies,

Where wisdom sat on the tongues of prophets,

And the Tower of Babel reached so high,

It kissed the heavens,

It dreamed of immortality.

But Babylon, oh Babylon,

You fell—didn’t you?

To the greed of kings,

The lust of empires,

The fall of one civilization,

The rise of another.

Time erased your beauty,

Covered your walls with the grime of centuries,

Left your ziggurats crumbling

Under the weight of forgotten wars.

Yet still, you rise.

You rise in the fire of a thousand suns,

In the ashes of the past,

In the dust of the forgotten,

You rise in the hearts of the broken,

In the eyes of the wanderers,

In the souls who long for something more,

For a city of promise,

For a city of fire,

For a city of Babylon.

All hails to Babylon rising,

Not in stone,

But in spirit,

Not in brick,

But in blood.

You, who once sat at the crossroads of time,

Are you now only a memory,

A myth we clutch to our chest?

Or are you something more,

A prophecy unfolding in the wake of our tears?

We’ve walked through deserts,

We've crossed seas of endless sand,

Searching for you, Babylon,

Chasing the illusion of your grandeur,

The glint of gold in the distance,

Not knowing that you were never lost,

You were always here,

In the heartbeat of the earth,

In the pulse of the sky,

In the promise of a new day rising.

All hails to Babylon rising!

Where the walls are no longer made of stone,

But of dreams.

Where the gates are no longer guarded by lions,

But by the hopes of the people,

The hearts of the wanderers,

The blood of the forgotten.

Where the rivers no longer flow with water,

But with stories,

With songs,

With prayers of those who seek,

Who dream,

Who never stop asking—

"Is Babylon truly gone, or is it simply waiting?"

Oh Babylon,

How long have we sought you?

In every city we build,

In every empire we raise,

We sought your spirit,

We sought your wisdom,

We sought your strength,

We sought your fire.

And yet, you slip through our fingers,

Like smoke, like dust,

Like a memory that refuses to fade.

But today, Babylon,

You rise again.

Not in the ruins we once thought you were,

Not in the ashes of your former glory,

But in the faces of those who dare to dream.

In the minds of those who dare to hope.

In the hearts of those who dare to believe

That from the depths of despair,

From the fall of empires,

Something new, something sacred,

Something unbreakable can rise.

All hails to Babylon rising—

In the revolution of thought,

In the revolution of the mind,

In the revolution of the soul.

You, who were lost to history,

You, who were abandoned by time,

You, who were left to rot in the soil of the past,

Now rise again.

You rise in every movement that dares to defy,

In every voice that dares to speak truth,

In every hand that dares to reach for something higher.

For Babylon is not a place,

It is not a city,

It is a people.

It is the dream of all who long for freedom,

It is the fire of those who refuse to be silenced,

It is the song of those who refuse to be forgotten.

It is the light in the dark,

The strength in the weak,

The voice in the silence,

The hope in the hopeless.

And so, Babylon,

All hails to you,

For you rise in every sunrise,

In every new beginning,

In every heartbeat that dares to pulse with purpose.

For you were never really lost—

You were always waiting,

Waiting for us to remember.

Waiting for us to wake up,

To look up,

And to rise with you.

Babylon,

You rise in the flames of rebellion,

In the ashes of the old world,

In the cries of the oppressed,

In the vision of the dreamers.

You rise in the strength of the broken,

In the resolve of the lost,

In the power of the unheard.

You rise as the world falls apart,

As the empire crumbles,

As the towers fall.

You rise, and with you, we rise.

All hails to Babylon rising,

In the wind that sweeps the deserts,

In the rain that quenches the earth,

In the fire that fuels the revolution.

You, who were once a city of power,

A kingdom of kings,

Now rise in the hearts of the people,

In the cries of the masses,

In the will of the unheard.

You are not just a city of the past,

You are a vision of the future.

You are the promise that the world can be remade,

That the ruins can rise again,

That the broken can be healed.

All hails to Babylon rising—

For you are not a place,

You are a people,

You are a vision,

You are a revolution.

And as long as we breathe,

As long as we dream,

As long as we hope,

You will rise again,

And again,

And again.

All hails to Babylon rising.