Rhythm of Rapture

It is an Armageddon of the mind. Death and damnation doled out by a destroyer God. Shove a sword into the hand of Jesus and force Him to smite the turned cheeks of the family next door. Vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord and the Lord performs good service. He is our mechanical monkey. Wind him up and He bangs His cymbals in the face of our enemies. 

It is the rhythm of the Rapture. We are the evangelical army of the intolerant and the insane. Our ranks swell with the righteous few. We are the buckle of the Bible Belt. The militant remains of the antebellum South. Singing our own praises. Our fathers' strange fruit was left to rot on the vine, but we've preserved an apple to eat on Judgement Day.