Do you see them, there upon the horizon?
Clouds are rising.
The wind howls with a banshee screech.
Creation groans, gasping out a last sigh:
You are Noah, and the end is nigh.
Will you weather the storm, afloat upon a boat called hope?
Or will you drown, sucked down in a whirlpool tide of trials and cares?
Life and death lay before you, Noah.
What will you do? Where, who, is your ark?