The cry of Christians that echoed throughout the centuries.
By Michelle Wong
The end of the age is drawing near,
Those who have ears, let him hear!
The fig tree has put forth its leaves and bloomed,
Now it prepares to receive her Bridegroom.
The Beginning of Sorrows is now past the door,
Its birth pangs intensifying more and more;
Disasters and violence proliferate,
Crises striking in alarming rate.
The rising of the Islamic Caliphate,
Will make the world go chaotic and bleak;
With the terrors of the Islamic State,
Men’s hearts might fail, faint, and fall weak.
Persecution, plagues, famines, and death,
Laid in battlefields so desolate and forlorn;
Struck peoples living in interiors and depths,
Families separated, millions of hearts torn.
Multitudes of saints died by the sword,
The saints cried out, “Please save us, Lord!”
For from the saints, they drew rivers of blood,
Which banks overflowed, and rose into a flood.
The Mother of all Harlots,
Drunk with the blood of the saints;
The perversion of zealots,
Will soon meet its constraints.
The prayers of the saints then rose up to God,
Then God said, “I have heard your cry;
Im coming soon and i shall delay not,
Look up, look up! Your redemption draws nigh!”
The sky then opened with a blinding light,
Jesus appeared in His glory so bright;
Nations trembled at this glorious sight,
His brilliance illuminated the darkest night.
The legions of heaven rode to battle with their King,
While the hordes of the earth gathered up for war;
Guns fire, bombs explode, and sirens ring,
Fire from heaven burned, they were soon no more.
Persecutions, plagues, famines and death,
Will be destroyed forever with His fiery breath;
Death will be swallowed up forevermore,
Crying, sickness, suffering will be no more.
We will keep ourselves chaste and pure,
And wash our robes snow-white;
Then we shall be with Him forevermore,
When we are chosen to be His bride.
Maranatha Jesus, Maranatha,
Come Lord Jesus, brighter than the sun;
Marantha Jesus, Maranatha,
Thy will be done, Thy kingdom come!