Before the Flood

Ancient Parishes of the old

Promises music to the light,

Beckoning to the City of Gold,

Whispering to the sunset bright.

Angel’s robed in gleaming light;

Trumpeters of silver

Blow with force.

The angel’s pray through the sleeping night,

Whilst orders of brimstone cherish the threshing floor.

The sky opens up

With the force of the Unseen;

He stands up, his arms open wide

The children of God run to His side

As the earth is transformed from sinful to clean.