Scribe
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I am descending down through the sky And I find myself again miniaturized Again in that same spot in Rome by the traffic circle by the fountain
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Queen of Heaven
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Now look up at the sky
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Scribe
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I look up at the sky and I see that it is dark It is not dark blue, but dark white It is overcast; there are many clouds; so much so that it is not full daylight
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Good continue
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Scribe
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And the clouds swirl and move They take on huge mass They take on form And they come down closer to the Earth They are not up as high in the sky as I am used to seeing clouds They are lower There is a menacing presence to them There is a sense that they are waiting Just waiting for the nod They are all ready; they are all in place; all they need is the nod from above And they can GO! And the clouds swirl about, almost chomping at the bit, as it were Yes they are READY! Yes they are ready
But they wait They wait They will not start until told to And they have not been told to
And the people are praying These Italians, they pray and they pray and they continue to pray And they receive the refugees and they receive the refugees And they continue to receive the refugees And then they return to praying and praying and praying some more
And then finally the clouds receive the word But it is not the word they were expecting No, they are not to open the floodgates on the land below them The word they receive is to move
And the clouds are obedient; they obey the word of God And together as one; they take off and I see them moving towards the East There is a great movement; a mass movement They all move eastwards
And now Rome is as bright as day The blue sky can be seen; the sun can be seen
And the Italians get on their knees and with their Rosary Give thanks and praise to God
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Queen of Heaven
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Follow the clouds, dear one Follow the clouds
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Scribe
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And now the clouds have moved eastwards And now they settle over Pakistan And they wait As before, they wait
And the Pakistanis see the clouds and run about in fright They run this way and they run that way For they know of the great flooding that has devastated their neighbors And are terrified that the same will happen to them And these clouds look ominous; ominous and threatening they look And the Pakistanis are frightened
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Queen of Heaven
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And in their fear what do they do
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Scribe
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They panic Pure and simple; they panic I see people carrying their possessions and fleeing They want to escape before the rains pour down I see carts piled up with all their possessions As they flee the city; as they flee the countryside As they flee their country For they are frightened They know of their neighbors’ devastation And they are frightened
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Queen of Heaven
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And do they get on their knees and pray
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Scribe
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Mother, I see an old woman here and an old man there They are on their knees praying, for they do not want to leave They are too old to run They are too old and have no desire to start again in a new place And so they remain and they are on their knees praying Some of them are Some of them resignedly lay down to wait the flood and die Most of the populace is fleeing
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Queen of Heaven
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And then what happens
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Scribe
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The clouds must have gotten the nod For they rip open the floodgates And they are in action!
The rain pours down with a harsh severity There is great wind Great, great wind And no the people had not fled in time
The rain pours down upon them Beats down upon them even as they are fleeing No, though they fled as soon as they saw the clouds They did not flee in time And in fact are on the streets and away from home And even more vulnerable to the storm
And I see the streets flooded and I see bodies floating Down the rivers that were the streets Bodies; bodies; bodies
And I see a person swimming; swimming; swimming And finally his strength gives out And he succumbs and drowns
I see the animals swimming I see the fear in their eyes And yes they too drown
For the wind and the rain continue They do not abate They do not abate
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Queen of Heaven
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And now what do you see
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Scribe
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And now the sky has cleared It is over The wind is gone; the clouds have emptied themselves onto the land
And I see the old people who remained in their homes and prayed I see them on the roofs of their houses crying into their hands They are crying; crying for their loved ones are all gone And they know full well that their loved ones are dead And no, they do not wish to live No they do not They are too old for this And they are bitter about surviving While their children and grandchildren died They are bitter And they curse God Why did you spare me oh God. Why
And they weep And they weep And they weep
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Queen of Heaven
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And now what happens
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Scribe
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And the waters slowly gradually recede And now we can see the streets And now we can see the carnage The streets are littered with the dead There are more dead than alive And the stench of the dead fills the air
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Queen of Heaven
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And the people alive. What do they do
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Scribe
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Some of them give into despair And die from that They simply lie down and die They cannot face this; no, they cannot There are too many dead; there are not enough alive
And now I see fires burning on the streets People pile up the bodies and set them on fire And the smoke rises up And yes now all the dead have been disposed of
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Queen of Heaven
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And the people remaining
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Scribe
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They are listless They are depressed They are at a loss
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Queen of Heaven
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Do they pray
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Scribe
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My Mother I do not see them praying They are too depressed it would seem to pray
I see an occasional fist being raised at the sky But mostly the people are at a loss They are at a loss and know not what to do with themselves They know not what to do
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Queen of Heaven
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And the government
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Scribe
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Is not apparent I do not see the government able to govern For the government of course is made up of individuals And many of them died And those who survived are simply people And like the other people they too are listless and lost And do not know what to do And are now functioning as grieving individuals And not as members of a government They are in grief; they are stunned They are in shock They are helpless The people truly are helpless
And now I see that more deaths continue There is no need; no apparent cause for these death But the dying continues It seems that hopelessness alone kills For truly there seems to be no reason for the deaths I am not perceiving illnesses Nor even lack of food and water For the waters have by now completely receded The bodies have been disposed of The streets are clear
Those who have survived could get up and continue on with their lives If they wanted to, but they don’t They don’t seem to want to They truly do not For too many of them have died
Not a single survivor has been spared the loss of a loved one Not one
Each is grieving Each is grieving Each is grieving
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Mother Mary
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And is there aid Do their neighbors come to their aid
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Scribe
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No they do not For they are not in dire need
There is no disease There is no flooding There is no natural disaster occurring
The disaster has come and has gone And there are more urgent situations elsewhere That the relief workers are attending to
And so Pakistan is overlooked
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Mother Mary
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And what happens
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Scribe
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My Mother, it is truly shocking But the people continue dying It would seem that they have just given up And they die One after the other they die
And now I am seeing the fires in the streets again Pakistan is being depopulated as I watch The survivors do not flee They do not make any attempt to survive It is as though they are shell-shocked And they are immobilized And they simply succumb One by one by one they succumb And they die They die They die
And the streets are silent Pakistan is as a ghost town And the few who still remain Feel themselves to be shades To be ghosts themselves To be as dead as they are alive And this feeling translates to yet more deaths And more deaths Until truly it seems that there are only a few hundred people left In the whole country of Pakistan
And finally these people They cannot stay No they cannot Not in this land of the dead And so these few remaining hundreds Pack up their belongings And slowly, slowly emigrate To whomever will accept them Some have relative in neighboring countries And they go to them Others just go to the nearest country And since there are so few of them They are accepted in They are allowed to move in and restart their lives
And now the great country of Pakistan is empty It is eerie It is a ghost country
This huge land mass that has nothing wrong with it Has been completely depopulated It is empty of all life
The structures, many of them remain Many of them have been destroyed But many of them remain
And they are empty They are empty They are empty
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Mother Mary
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Is there an attempt to repopulate Pakistan
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Scribe
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No there is not, for the country is now seen as the land of the dead The dead inhabit that country, the people say Move there and die, the people say And no, there is no repopulation of Pakistan that I can see
Pakistan has died Pakistan has died Pakistan has died
It is the land of the dead It has died Along with its people, it has died
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