To Dream of Ur

Desolate and forsaken
 Eerily moaning dark winds
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 Murmur incantations
 Dusk calls forth shadows
 Spirits of the glorious dead
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 Lingering bound to this place
 They whisper of untold sagas, of long dead cities
 The seven shining cities sacred to the aphkhallu
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 Of ages past when the world was young
 When babylon was blessed of marduk
 And the sound of her armies was the blare of ominous war horns
 And the clash of immortal cymbals
 Of bronze gates arrayed in splendour
 And magnificent walls of sunbaked brick of temples of marble
 And bloodstained altars, long before the jeweled throne of Ur
 Fell silent and turned to dust
 Beneath the endless shifting sands
 And the inevitable vengeance of the elements