A Judgment on the Field

A love that is not expressed; Is not a love at all
And if there’s no one playing; There is no game in fall

The teams can gather on the field, to reap what they have sown
But once the wheat is in the barn; Away the chaff is blown

A howling wind comes from the north to gather all the nations
There’s terror now on every side, God’s wrath is their libation

A thousand years has come and gone. And now they’re raised again
They stand before the Great White Throne. To face One not their friend