Saturday, January 8, 2011

The Hidden Streets of Babylon

The Hidden Streets of Babylon
By Tim Shey

With selfwork
By traditions of men
Stumble down the hidden streets of Babylon
You are a puppet on a hellish string

Many words are spoken
Sterile speech into vacant air
This is how the heathen pray
The Lord wants your heart
No faith, no life, no Jesus
I am surrounded by white-washed walls

Summa Theologica is for aesthetes
Solus ecclesia echoes nothing
Most Latin is Greek to me

Rituals and liturgy
Feed the pride
Of the unsaved seminarian

The Council of Whitby
Ushered in the Dark Ages
We have strayed
From the Word of God
And His inspired Scriptures

Idolatry is a habit
Worn by blind people
Watch them
Groping, crawling
In a dark, overchurched ditch

Living by sight
And the wisdom of this world
Is fashionable and insane
Its compass points the maddening crowd
To nowhere
It paves a smooth, broad path
To perdition


  1. I know that you truly see this stuff. The zeal of God has consumed you but I pray also that Yeshua comforts you and that you see the fawns in the fences, my friend.

    In His Love,

    Leslie Manto

  2. Chilling, and oh so true.
    It reminds me of the Roman Catholic church I went to as a child.
    This is a REALLY good poem. Thanks for sharing it!

  3. Dreamsofdunamia: Thank you for your comment. I was also raised in a Catholic household--or I should say, pagan Irish Catholic Slavery.

    There is no salvation in church membership. Only a personal relationship with Jesus saves.