The Lamb breaks the seventh seal
A hush falls over heaven
Sssh… for half an hour
Then trumps for angels, seven for seven
A second angel to the altar comes
With a censer prepared for burning incense
To offer up with the prayers of all saints
Up, up from his hand swirl the whispers intense
He fills it up with fire
Then casts it down unto the earth
Into violent storms inspired
By he who knows what a prayer is worth
Broken is the seventh seal
All heaven is breaking loose
On the unforgiven lost in their sin
Lost and obtuse
Father’s waited patiently
The time is now to choose
The seventh seal is broken
The first angel sounds
Hail, fire, and blood pummel and pound
All the green grass starts burning
A third of the trees burn down to the ground
The second angel sounds
A mountain afire smashes the sea
A third of it roars red with blood
A third are trapped, no chance to flee
The third angel sounds
Wormwood blazes across the sky
Falling across rivers and fountains
A third toxified, many die
The fourth angel sounds
By thirds: the sun, moon, stars are smitten
A third of the day, a third of the night
Go dark as it is written
Broken is the seventh seal
All heaven is breaking loose
Lost and obtuse
Father’s waited patiently
On the unforgiven lost in their sin
The time is now to choose
The seventh seal is broken
The fifth sounds, a star hits the ground unlocking the bottomless pit
Let the smoke arise, let the smoke arise
From the fiery depths deep down, up, up, up nothing can stop it
From choking the skies, choking the skies
In breastplates of iron, locusts swarm
With stinging tails, horselike their shapes
Five months, they’ll torment the unsealed
And though men seek it — death escapes, death escapes
Beastly kings with thundering wings
Onward to battle they run
Tormenting the goats to the left
In service to King Abaddon
Broken is the seventh seal
All heaven is breaking loose
On the unforgiven lost in their sin
Lost and obtuse
Father’s waited patiently
The time is now to choose
The seventh seal is broken
One woe is past; and, behold, there come two woes more hereafter
PAIN
The sixth angel blared his trump
From the four horns of God’s altar I heard
Loose the four angels bound in the great river Euphrates
Made for this hour, this day, this month, this year to slay humankind by a third
Two hundred thousand thousand horsemen
With breastplates of fire, jacinth, and brimstone
Riding horses with lion-like heads
Breathing fire, snorting smoke in the death zone
Serpent tails that strike
Survivors repented not of their sins
Idolaters, murderers, sorcerers, fornicators, thieves remain
And the final woe begins
Poet Cea 