Ants

Ants, from Valley of Babylon The gourds that made up the abdomen Are crying, crying for the delicious city of wolf And the tower of Babel by many demolishing grind, Gnashing and swallowing into lungs, Wisdom is heartless, never mind, Possessing soul to soul is life, Almighty long limbs like thread, Stretched like recherché, Macho double pear seeds chest link the faculty And the mandibles rabble out weakly: Prepared! Prepared for battles of the minute! Prepared for war the chosen geniuses! O! Enormous container enlarge collectibles, Manufactured with succulent clauses of papyrus Delayed a bit, so that loads of hallucination, Will float unhindered, arbitrarily inside The belly of faculty, Until the bard go aloft to hibernate.