The Rehearsal

Covid was a piece of driftwood in our psychic stream a dress rehearsal for the landslide in our dream. An appetizer before the seven-course rapture. It is written in our coffee ringed bibles these prophecies cannot be undone. We are caught up in the current of one global currency and economy Armies are aligning aside the river Styx. Around the dome of the rock. Pieces of the temple are gathering The antichrist will proclaim he's God demanding all bow down to his whim. Some will be sated and seduced donning the number of the damned Some will shimmer in unbowed faith and be saved by the blood of the lamb.