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For all the noises the world
makes,
Early risers chasing intoxicating
drink,
Hell-bent riders shunning
the light of day,
All-night revelers racing
to the brink,
Daring the Almighty God
to His face
To do with haste what He
so threatened,
The only sounds left above
the sinful din:
Will be a shaking in the
hills at first,
Then banners flapping from
nations afar,
Their horses' hooves building
building to
crescendo,
Their battle cries like
the roaring seas,
Then, silence and nothing...
as sorrowed darkness
blankets the noiseless land.
Isaiah 5 |
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