What if the wind gradually drifts,
and carries the zinc in an odd swift
across the cloudy sky’s rift and sifts?
And what if the daily bright sun
suddenly darkens and soon is gone
when the doom’s time is done?
What if the mother Earth shakes
in frenzied rakes and flakes,
sends the crust down the sea drakes?
And what if while flying on this track
your quack wings are hacked to a crack,
falling like packs in turn sacks?
What if your heartbeat halts to beat
and your soul scurry in a rhythmic beat
to meet the Saviour in heaven’s seat?
Will you be as dazzling white as snow
that your face shines and glows
with the Lamb’s light throne’s throw?
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