What if the wind gradually drifts, and carries the zinc in an odd swift across the cloudy sky’s rift and sifts? And what if the daily bright sun suddenly darkens and soon is gone when the doom’s time is done? What if the mother Earth shakes in frenzied rakes and flakes, sends the crust down the sea drakes? And what if while flying on this track your quack wings are hacked to a crack, falling like packs in turn sacks? What if your heartbeat halts to beat and your soul scurry in a rhythmic beat to meet the Saviour in heaven’s seat? Will you be as dazzling white as snow that your face shines and glows with the Lamb’s light throne’s throw?