Enter the swarm
the lord of the flies
king of the desert nights
ruler of nightmares
Fallen Babylon walks with him
desolates cities made on the sand
laughs as he licks bones
bleached under the scorching sun
A prince condemned to fly
where filth rots the land
foul is the aura
of his subjects
as they roam the land
as the sweep life
The ruins speak, the ruins sing
of fables forbidden
of unstold stories
Beelzebub's kingdom
only flies thrive
the hawk refuses to fly
the panther denies his right to roar
death plays a crooked melody
in his violin
The swarm flies
wounds the desert
and lets it bleed
They were true
the Mad Arab's verses
painfully true
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