He will come, in a chariot of Fire,

He will cast out, all false desire;

He will clear, the planes for Truth,

He will rebuke, the Holy Youth.

 

They are not wrong, but they don’t see.

Above their cell phones to the tree.

To nature they, are cold and dying;

And our Earth, is surely crying.

 

To lose the beauty, of these ones,

There just texting, no angel comes.

Their spirits wither; their souls hide.

Where can God, and Truth reside?

 

Your being taken, from the Son/Sun,

It’s got you now, the Evil One, (technology)

And Nature cries, and I do too.

To lose a precious, child like you.

 

Their hearts are closing,

It’s so bazaar,

Where is the music?

The sweet guitar?

 

Where is the love, that used to be?

Where are the surfers by the sea?

They’re just texting; and looking down,

They don’t see anyone, that is around.

 

It’s all your choice,

But see it clear,

For Christ may come,

You’ll miss, I fear.

 

He will come, in a chariot of Fire,

He will cast out, all false desire;

He will clear, the planes for Truth,

He will rebuke, the Holy Youth

.

Gabriel, the Announcing Archangel of the Throne,

Heart Stream Mary-Ma McChrist

© 2019 by Mary McChrist. All Rights reserved.