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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Spoken Word: “Last Days in the Empire” By Alejandro Diego Z. MA Psych Is America the Next Babylon? They built this dream on a haunted field, Blood in the bricks, but the scars don’t heal. Liberty whispers with a slave's appeal, Signed the deal, now we spin the wheel. Foundations cracked from greed and steel, Preachin’ hope but forgot to kneel. Talkin’ peace with a sword concealed— This ain’t prophecy, it’s fate revealed. I walk through cities like Ezekiel's ghost, Angels cryin’ on the West Coast. From Chi-town blocks to Eastside boats, We toast to death, but don’t raise no hopes. It’s the land of the free, but the souls ain’t free, You pay with your mind just to own ID. Scrollin’ your worth through a glass TV, But can’t feel the Spirit when the Wi-Fi freeze. Babylon wearin’ a designer crown, Smilin’ while the kingdom’s burnin’ down. Got demons dancin’ in a gospel gown— Judgment don’t whisper, it roars like sound. I ain’t scared, I’m set on fire, Wired like amps when the stakes get higher. They sellin’ us dreams, but I’m callin’ the liar— This mic ain’t a tool, it’s a trumpet choir. I seen the poor sleep on cardboard scripts, While billionaires sip on apocalypse. They buildin’ Mars ships, stackin’ crypts, But forget the Word still cracks the whips. Africa rising with a lion’s breath, While the West chase fame to a plastic death. They mock the truth like a jester’s jest— But the King returns, no time for rest. I'm the echo of prophets, the storm that speaks, The voice in the alley, the fire that leaks. I don’t rhyme for likes, I rhyme for peaks— To wake the deaf and empower the weak. Every verse is a war cry in disguise, Every line is a match that burns the lies. I ain’t here for applause or dollar signs— I’m here to carve the truth in crooked spines. So call me radical, call me insane— But I won’t be quiet in a world of pain. While they mimic glory in Caesar’s name— I walk with Christ in a rebel’s flame.
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