A poem on our contemporary times as a Virulent strain of Covid-19 afflicts the world, manifest is the pain,struggles, tears, fears and ultimately with finale of teary undertones of hope.
Huddled in prayer the words rushing over each other
Take away this teary cup they beseech their creator
With death all around they do in earnest they pray
The Most High they pay all their obeyance to ELOHIM
The spirit crieyeth out aloud deal with us your heirs Abba
The innocent blood they beg one Most High fathom flowing
Is there not one Rabbi to stand in the gap mighty Redeemer
Remember our supplication for we have sinned Father
Cast us not off to the fires for the Great Lion overcame all
The Lamb Who was slain that the Elect might gain entry....
To the esteemed throne of Mercy its reprieve in tears
A cup of tears partaken as a world totters in darkness
In tatters the elect trust till-in that rugged cross of ages
Send your glory at dawn let Chekinah cover the land
Like a cloud at dawn A Mercy from Your Lord manifest
Showers of blessings falling rejuvenating in them hope
Cover up our senses Ooh Most Holy One we beseech
Lest we see the Angel of wrath and fall dead in fright
Mika-el do see the smear of blood on our doorposts
Pass over us let us eat of them bitter herbs once more
Slaughter a Passover goat let us this day recall forever
Made you a distinction and touched not the Oil this day
Saying to princes of the earth leave them My anointed
Let My people enjoy more for how long will they weep
All day teary-eyed yet nations offering them no reprieve
Myriads of Holy Ones seen waiting on a people besieged..
The world stumbles they calling the viral weapon Covidity
Where did we go so wrong most repent not angst they are
Who wields such a powerful sword it now parts them waters
A crazed cabal talking depopulate agenda the world shudders
Stamp on the head of the serpent My LORD we do now pray
A bitter cup of tears they partake world-over in all places
Is that the voice of Rachel i do hear Ooh one Most High
Weeping for her unborn ones snatched from the womb
Cataclysms when them floods come spare us... Mika-el...
When the fires are relighted all over seven score times...
A reprieve we pray remember not our many transgressions
As long as there is a new dawn from east then west
And five moons do not arise men falling from fright
Harvest planting a promise to them flowers... Maua
A intruiging tale story about a man in a psychiatric facility
The story of a young man using love as a means of escapism from a dark past
Story of the immortal Lee as he is appearing before the heavenly host