When the trumpet from the north is blown , you will be left behind, because you did not hear Me.
Seeing that you have rejected your Savior, I now turn you over to a depraved mind...
How long did we endure such trouble?
Coming from the north, I heard a sound but it was a sound like a broken trumpet.
And a song of such about a town, a place of dreams, where all the poor miserable children ate bread and wore royalty clothings.
Even those poor souls we've seen roaming around like nomads across the earth.
I gave attention to the sound, I reasoned and came to a conclusion, that they were more souls who made it out from the south of the country, to a place called The Great White Throne Judgment.
By reasoning, they were able to conclude that such place never existed, all but a fairy-tale told to little children who misbehave.
For the place we call home, is here and now and such stories only weary me.
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