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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #2018796
the coming battle
Whispers

As the wind whispers…it is time

Light stands tall against the shade before Him
Love upholds the strength of His armor
Bright is the voice of His being
and countenance 

On a hill overlooking a pasture
those He sent before Him, overwhelmed
had withered like straw in ancient
forgotten barns

Where the wind whispers…He’s coming

The coveting cloud basks in its glory
as his purple robe’s golden hem sings
like the light, to darken the truth
with its music

Raining down wealth to bind them in duty
Tares in the wheat laugh in confusion
While love sinks into the cesspool
long forsaken

As the wind whispers…He’s coming

The cattle stare at the bare ground and moan
As their keepers with their sores cower
in the shade of the cloud and heat’s
devouring thrust

The whippoorwill steals from the sparrow’s nest
and oceans cheat with the river’s bride
While earth takes a deep breath and spews
hope upside down

As the wind whispers…He’s coming

As the torn veil clings to its rotting rod
the false prophet comes pulling the shade
Though his lightning fertilizes
his lie with death

And two in the square in beggar’s garments
prophesy of His righteous anger
(by their plagues that reach the stars)
judging that lie

As the wind whispers…He’s coming

Light stands tall against the shade before Him
Love upholds the strength of His armor
Bright is the voice of His being
and countenance

On a hill overlooking a pasture
multitudes before Him will be raised
in white robes of righteousness
to do battle…

As the wind whispers, He’s coming
© Copyright 2014 Allyn Smith (allynsmith at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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