At Last

The bridegroom awaits the appointed hour only the Heaven’s creator knows. The shofar will sound around the world and the Angels will shout, when the feast of trumpets is nigh.

Those asleep beneath will wake and those alive will hear. His bride we are and soon we’ll wed caught up in the air to meet; in a “twinkling of an eye”.

Eyes of woe in masks of fear wear the trembling left behind, wailing cries of lament for hearkening not to the Saviors words in John 3:16, repeatedly sent.

Take heed a blood-red moon shall be Heaven’s sign…

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