I heard a voice speak soft and low,
As I lay upon my bed,
I felt such anguish in my heart,
As the voice so softly said.

Dear child of mine, I speak to you,
The time is drawing near,
Where millions of souls will be lost,
And who is there to care.

You must search to find a wandering soul,
And bring them home again,
Bring them back to the arms of Jesus,
Where angels will attend.

I’m calling you home, just one last time,
Then the door of mercy will close,
And I will come back to the take my own,
Where no more will they ever roam.

The time is now, do not delay,
Lay your all on the altar today,
For I am preparing a mansion of gold,
Where the angels of mine will stay.

Ann Hart©
Dec 27, 2003
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