The Hour Before the Trumpet
The fig tree bloomed in barren land,
A leaf reborn by Sovereign hand.
The winds of prophecy stirred the sand—
And watchers woke across the span.
A nation born in one day’s cry,
As prophets saw in ages nigh.
Jerusalem stirred, the altar bare,
A temple waits in whispered prayer.
The signs declared in fire and flood—
The groaning earth, the rising blood.
Knowledge rose like smoke in skies,
Men raced the winds, the stars, the lies.
(Daniel 12:4; Matthew 24:6–7)
The lovers of self fill every street,
The lawless rise, the flames repeat.
The Gospel flies on wings of flame—
And still they mock the Savior’s name.
(Matthew 24:12–14; 2 Peter 3:3)
The Church sleeps light in worldly beds,
But those with oil lift holy heads.
They trim their lamps, they watch the cloud,
They hear the trumpet soft and loud.
(Matthew 25:1–10)
O Bride, awake! The hour breaks—
The Groom is near, the shadow shakes!
The Rapture waits with thunder’s breath—
To spare the Bride the wrath of death.
(1 Thessalonians 4:16–17; Revelation 3:10)
The man of sin will then arise,
With hell beneath his cloaked disguise.
At midpoint he shall show his face,
In God’s own temple, claim His place.
(2 Thessalonians 2:3–4; Daniel 9:27)
The world shall worship lies and war,
And open wide the dragon’s door.
The Watchers weep from pits of flame—
Their children rise to wear their name.
(Revelation 13; Genesis 6:2–4; 1 Enoch)
But Two shall stand in sackcloth black,
And speak of truth while fire cracks.
The beast shall rage, the earth shall quake—
Then God shall call and graves shall break.
(Revelation 11:3–12)
Seven years of wrath unfold,
As plagues and bowls of wrath are told.
But in the sky a white horse rides—
And heaven’s door swings open wide.
(Revelation 6–19)
The King returns with sword and flame,
To crush the beast, to cleanse the shame.
He’ll plant His throne in Zion’s dust,
And judge the proud, exalt the just.
(Zechariah 14; Revelation 19:11–20)
O Israel, your day draws near—
The scales shall fall, the truth appear.
You’ll look on Him you pierced and grieve,
Then rise and rule and still believe.
(Zechariah 12:10; Romans 11:26)
But now, dear soul, the clock is thin,
The trumpet waits to draw us in.
The door is open—but not for long,
The Bridegroom calls—make ready, song.
Repent. Believe. The veil was torn.
Be born again, not merely born.
The Groom will not delay the sky—
Behold, He comes! Redemption nigh!
Written by Marguerite Grace
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