Long have men built their city.
Long have I drawn out My pity.
Living different periods, countries,
filling out determined boundaries.
They will say from so-called shelter
“I will still build, bigger, better-”

And I will answer, “No.”

The cities of the nations fall!
Mountains, rocks they will call!
I will shake their bricks and mortar,
fling their mighty towers of timber!
I will rip men from their homes,
as heaven, earth flees My throne!

What then will you do, you cities of the nations?

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