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Riding up on a cloud I met the thunders.
There were seven and each spoke words.
They spoke great things of many wonders.
Lightning sounded to the cattle’s of herds.
The sky turned dark and the Seas roared.
Birds flew in the skies and they soared.
Around the seven thunders was a scroll.
Written on both sides were of all souls.
 
An angel took my right hand,
And pointed down at the land,
Miss if you may forfeit today,
Upon your head is stoned clay.
To your right is a light in sight.
Bite and be bright by the night.
 
The seven thunders were on my head.
Heavy and weighty like steel and lead.
Rumbling and roaring my ears pained.
I saw the lives of many already slain.
On the scroll were the names of those.
One by one they awakened and rose.
 
Another angel took my left hand high,
And pointed me straight up to the sky,
The Moon and Sun will never lie she said.
Miss if you may forfeit today your dead.
Upon your head is twelve crowns of gold.
Take them to the lands and be very bold.
 
The seven thunders were on my neck.
Heavy and weighty kept me in check.
Rumbling and roaring my ears ached.
I saw the vessels of the living break.
On the scroll were the names of such.
One by one they did not know enough.

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