there’s a beast in the streets. he rushes his prey. he devours all in his path. can you feel him? the edge of his hunger is the breath on your heels as you run, and run, and run. on and on you run, heart pounding, chest aching, one step following another with nothing more than the push of your will to keep going. sprinting to survive. praying for the earth to swallow the flood spewed from the monster pursuing you.
the people are fleeing for their lives, but the city of refuge lies in ruins. where are those who will build up the wall? who will stand in the gap? the cornerstone is in place, but the peters of the kingdom quibble among themselves, striving for position in the wall, refusing the cut of the mason’s tool. each stone struggles and seeks to complete the spires on the wall. who will lay down their lives to be a foundation and allow the next generation to build upon ground they’ll never have to break?
the city is in ruins. rough, unhewn rocks dot the surface of the hillside, and the monster is coming, and the people are fleeing. the city has already been besieged and surrendered. where will the people go when strength is gone, if the wall is not standing?
scattered stones on the hilltop. bones bleaching in the valley sun. hear the call of the Father. urgent. desperate. build the wall. build the wall. build the wall.