>>>Now, this Hurricane burst of Wrath is Spent, <>
Some will Repent, back to God's 'Tent,' <>
Or, to Satan's Hell, when Some Refuse, <>
Only, You, can Ponder, and Choose. <<<
Pain Like Travail
By Arley Steinhour 110112 (rev 110116
Hurricane Pain, like Travail, fills Air,
So, Everyone, now, is pulling hair,
Sixty Million, Problems, to share,
Total wreckage, almost, everywhere.
Sandy, Sand, on street and walk,
No one has time, to stop and talk,
Winter soon will freeze the ears,
Recovery will take many years.
The countryside, that's little more,
Nine hundred miles, of Atlantic shore,
A Third of country, feels some affect,
From lots of rain, to Cities wrecked.
Homes and buildings, stacked up high,
Now piles of trash, below the sky,
Many years will need pass by,
For memories, that make us cry.
Years, are needed, to do a rebuild,
Or clean the trash, with land back-filled,
Many people will just walk away,
Much farther inland, for their kids to play.
The older folk, won't even try,
To fix their lives, and, would rather die,
The storm took most of their memories,
With moisture, mold, in windblown trees.
Many people will turn back to God,
Some will curse Him for the Iron Rod,
He's warned us through His Prophecy,
We bear His wrath, when we 'Hell-bent' be.
With all the happenings in these days,
Like Travail, Signs rein in divers ways,
More and more, with each one stronger,
If we don't Repent, Time won't be, much longer.
He knew this ending from the start,
In His words we find His broken heart,
Pleading, pleading constantly,
'Come back, Come back, Come back, to ME.'