The clouds are gathering
Looks like a storm ahead.
Those that cannot see, though able,
Will die in their beds.
Left are the rabble you see
In other countries, not here.
But the days are approaching,
And I am not a seer.
There will be dead in the streets,
Over which those alive will climb.
Trying to escape what they can't,
You see it is now our time.
Lady Vivian
budd
Ron
Love ya!
Jane