The LORD's
Mighty Army
Blow the
trumpet in Zion;
sound the
alarm on My holy hill.
Let all who
live in the land tremble,
for The Day
of The Lord is coming.
It is close
at hand —
a day of
darkness and gloom,
a day of
clouds and blackness.
Like dawn spreading
across the mountains
a large and
mighty army comes,
such as
never was of old
nor ever
will be in ages to come.
Before them
fire devours,
behind them
a flame blazes.
Before them
the land is like the garden of Eden,
behind them,
a desert waste —
nothing
escapes them.
They have
the appearance of horses;
they gallop
along like cavalry.
With a noise
like that of chariots
they leap
over the mountaintops,
like a
crackling fire consuming stubble,
like a
mighty army drawn up for battle.
Fear grips
all the people;
every face
grows pale with terror.
The
attackers march like warriors
and scale
city walls like soldiers.
Straight
forward they march,
never
breaking rank.
They never
jostle each other;
each moves
in exactly the right position.
They break
through defenses
without
missing a step.
They swarm
over the city
and run
along its walls.
They enter
all the houses,
climbing
like thieves through the windows.
The earth
quakes as they advance,
and the
heavens tremble.
The sun and
moon grow dark,
and the
stars no longer shine.
The Lord is
at the head of the column.
He leads
them with a shout.
This is His
mighty army,
and they
follow His orders.
The Day of The
Lord is an awesome, terrible thing.
Who can
possibly survive?