A tempest surges from the sea—
The sea of humankind.
Within that storm appears a beast,
Which was believed to be deceased;
With kings it has aligned.
And on its back, a woman rides;
She's dressed in purple-red.
She urges all to stand behind
The loathsome beast, where they will find
An end to days of dread.
O Babylon, how blind you are!
The beast will be your death!
It will cast down your wicked crown
And tear away your crimson gown;
So ends your sinful breath.
But then the beast will meet its end
When Armageddon starts.
Unending peace will come from God,
Not man, whose governance is flawed
And fueled by wayward hearts.
And finally, when all is done,
We'll see a wondrous dawn!
The scarlet beast will be no more,
Not even wars or men who roar;
The willful ones are gone!