Beware the drum,
Pounding on a distant hill;
A sound felt more than heard,
And there is foreboding in its cadence,
A sense of approaching conflict,
But for most it will be a surprise.

The story was foretold
Several thousand years ago,
Of a nemesis who bides his time,
Never doubting that he’ll be the one to win the war,
And his army has grown to be strong.

Blind and naïve are we,
Feeling safe within our borders.
The enemy, it seems, is at your door,
Having followed the welcome signs.

Delusion has become the order of the day,
Expecting all to feel as we do,
But the dark army marches on,
Year after year,
Deeply integrated within your own town.

Maybe the prophets were paranoid,
But somehow I suspect they were not,
And today when warnings are sounded,
You think paranoia is once again the cause.
But if I might, I would suggest to you,
That you make plans for your own;
There are those who would see you dead,
And me,
And all of those we love…

It is not a riddle to be contemplated,
Or a complexity that we cannot understand.
For most, they are stories that we first learned in youth,
From a book that is gathering dust.

Prepare is the message that I bring to you,
For the storm that will surely come,
For from across the seas,
Come the prophecies,
Of a destiny now upon us.