The wolves bark from the trees.  Growling leaves torment.  Teeth unknown, and once hidden, bare themselves, lashing out for blood.  Ready to lunge.  Unleashed and ready to lunge.  Claws ready to ravage appear.  Trembling in the desire to attack, wolves in the trees come alive.


But held back are these murdering beasts.  ďHold your ground!Ē the order of God.  Angels stand at guard, tips of might prepared to pierce those that leave too soon.


Teeth anxious to devour souls glisten, tongues lathered for the taste, and eyes on marked targets, are borne by these demons who have made themselves known.  They have exposed themselves to the assembly, and they have revealed their deadly mission.


Yet, in perfect peace, the saintly ones walk through angelsí guard.  Walking forward among the columns and rows of their guard, a march is in progress to Heavenís offering.  Calm is over each head.  There are no anxious hearts.  Not a single head is darting, looking to find unknown peril.  And laughter joins the march, and joy, and gladness, as does kindness and the hope that others will find their way and join in this festive tide.


But now, behind, it is released.  The guard is lifted.  Angels ascend on high.  And collapsed is the wall of demon wolves, forcefully joining.  Fallen are the stacks of terror that were held.  Striking out, the waiting hoards attack.  As like a rushing flood, the onslaught of death nears.  Angels ascend one after the other, in orderly form, each at Godís timely command, moving the guard, and allowing terror out.  And without hesitation, without pause, the waiting wolves pounce.  And the wave approaches.


But in the march of Godís blessed souls, not a hint of concern.  For no worry breaths a breath passed the angels guard.  Joy and peace is ever-lasting in the march, nothing else is known.


So wolves, in your trees you stay, until the season is ripe.

Then at Godís command, and only then, will angels loose your might.

You have no harm to give on those that march by,

No, save your wrath and feed your hunger on those that choose to die.

Even in trees we see that day of death is coming near,

But itís by Godís hand and His Creationís plan, when it is here.

Join the march of these protected saints of Godís chosen few.

Find Jesus Christ, Heís the joy in terror, and the only One that can let you through.



March by Ronhales                                                                                                                                                        2 Thessalonians 2:6-8

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