By Arley Steinhour 043013
The warnings, that the world can see,
Events, with no normal vane,
Smacks loudly of your Prophecy,
To a world that's gone insane.
Travail, you call it, for the Strife,
On the Wall, many see your word,
You're ending this Era, of our life,
And New Covenant, soon be heard.
Soon, you close the Gates of Choice,
After Two Thousand years Tribulation,
You call remainder, with Trump, and Voice,
Snatch mortal Souls of your Bride's Station.
For Seven years, Beast rules the world,
Attempting to keep you from your Rule,
Name or Number, of Beast, soon unfurled,
Those accepting be Abomination-Fool.
For Twelve Hundred and Ninety days,
Last half of Seven, be Hell on Earth,
Take 'Mark,' or die in diverse ways,
With beheading, invoking his mirth.
In this world of Seven Billion, alive,
One, of which, may soon disappear,
Of, remaining Six, to 'Die' be Five,
Before Thirteen Hundred Thirty-Fifth day, gets here.
Those, then alive, earns Millennial berth,
None, with 'Beast-Mark,' most Israel,
Messiah rules with 'Rod of Iron,' on earth,
Without Satanic condemnation, to scale.
The Martyred, to be God's Judges and Teachers,
In the name of Jesus, and Covenant Calling,
One Thousand years, all people will live,
Through Satan's release, and final Falling.
All that's left to do, at this final hour,
Judgment, of Great White Throne, meted out,
Book of life now contain, all who will flower,
All 'Evil' to Lake of Fire, Last word: "Get OUT!"
In the sky, be it cloudy or bright,
Soon, we'll hear the Trumpet Call,
His words then sound, and we take flight,
'Come up Here, My Saved, Great and Small.'
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