A Supplication Proffered To The Lord On High

A Supplication Proffered To The Lord On High

Another day filled with toil and strife,

Just another taste of this bitter life;

Signs all indicate the Rapture is soon,

With each new waxing or waning of the Moon.

We look to the skies while praying on our knees,

Shouting from the fire to be cooled by a breeze;

Nothing good in life ever comes easy,

And the things that do tend to make us all queasy.

Why, why, why, oh why!?

A question proffered to the Lord on High:

How can the timelines flow so seamless and sound,

Yet we’re still left fluttering on this earthly-ground?

We search, we pray, we hope, we beg,

To avoid the blast from that powder keg;

You’re never late, You’re always on time,

But we’re in a hurry to reach the Finish Line!!

How many more weeks?

How many more days?

Exactly just how many more hours,

Must we endure this confusion and haze?

The Tribulation will soon commence,

Not much time left for those on the fence;

But their destiny can change by altering their hearts,

So as to accompany us Heavenward before the chaos starts.

Lord, if You choose to extend this excruciating delay,

Please provide us with the strength to survive another day;

We desperately wish to come to the end of this sorrow,

And tonight would be better than waiting until tomorrow!!!

We’re anxious to go, we’re ready to leave,

There’s nothing left here for which to cleave;

Please come get us, Lord, don’t tarry anymore,

Provide us with our wings-- we’re all set to soar!

We're ready for the Banquet and we're really, really hungry! :prayer-hands:

Humbly Irrelevant  (and getting more irrelevant by the minute)