June 14, 2014
n the early hours of a recent morning in Tehran, crimson graffiti appeared on a pale stone wall. The message, written in Farsi, reads: “We’re smelling the fall.”
Beneath the phrase, a wide-eyed cartoon face stares ahead, seemingly capturing the shock, anticipation, and fear now coursing through the capital. This is more than an act of vandalism. It’s a warning. A signal. A reflection of a regime on the edge.
For more than four decades, the Islamic Republic of Iran has enforced its authority through a mixture of religious control and political repression. But across Iran today, that control is visibly cracking. From the streets of Shiraz to the campuses of Tehran, whispers of discontent have grown into a groundswell.
The graffiti speaks to something deeper: a shift not only in public sentiment but in the spiritual atmosphere. This is not just a rebellion. It is, in the eyes of many, the beginning of the end of the Khomeini era — the ideological and theological regime born in 1979 and led through fear, surveillance, and false piety.
The signs are everywhere. Women burning their hijabs in public squares. Underground churches growing at unprecedented rates. Students and activists rejecting both state propaganda and the clerical narratives that have dominated Iranian life for generations.
While Western leaders weigh nuclear negotiations and sanction packages, a different kind of reckoning is unfolding within Iran. The population is no longer simply calling for reform — it is bracing for collapse.
According to biblical prophecy referenced by intercessors and Middle East watchers, Iran — referred to in Scripture as Elam — holds a unique place in history. The prophet Jeremiah writes: “I will set My throne in Elam and destroy her kings and officials… Yet I will restore the fortunes of Elam in the days to come.” (Jeremiah 49:38–39)
To those interpreting events through a prophetic lens, the fall of the current regime is not just political. It is divine justice. And the graffiti, seen across Tehran, is evidence that even those inside the country can sense it.
This is what prophecy feels like. The atmosphere shifts before the headlines catch up. Intercessors sense what generals and journalists will only later confirm. I believe we are already living in the moment that will be studied as a turning point. What is now a whisper on Tehran’s walls will soon be thunder across the region.
Iran’s regime has long maintained power through a calculated mix of theology and force. But its authority now appears brittle. Brutal crackdowns have only deepened resentment, and the increasing visibility of anti-regime messages — like the graffiti in question — indicate a growing fearlessness among citizens.
I note that the use of phrases like 'we smell the fall' reflects a population no longer simply angry, but expectant. Collapse, I believe, is not a matter of if, but when.
This comes at a time of intensified geopolitical tension. Iranian proxies have grown increasingly active across the Middle East. Domestically, inflation, sanctions, and water shortages have made daily life unbearable for many.
In the midst of these crises, a spiritual undercurrent is emerging — one many describe as reminiscent of Daniel 10. In that chapter, the prophet Daniel prays and fasts for 21 days while a heavenly battle rages over Persia.
I am calling for a similar response. “Let us pray like Daniel,” I urge. “Let us fast, intercede, and cry out until the principality behind this regime is cast down.”
The future of Iran remains uncertain. But one thing is clear: the scent of collapse is in the air. And it’s no longer confined to whispers in the dark. It’s written on the walls of Tehran for all to see.