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I see a wine press overflowing with blood trampled to foam. I hear a war song: Carnage-carnage. Oh, look, pain and death are no joke indeed. I see a long trail of blood on the war path. I see it leads to a deep dark hole. I see in many a country a pitch-black flag flying at half-mast.

With blood beginning to splatter in all directions from East as well as West. I see how the kings together with the bankers scratch their heads. This, while China is briskly walking alongside Russia. I see England’s and America’s national flags hanging askew and limp. While they are desperately trying to revamp their Army.

Germany is desperately trying to sidestep conflict. But far too late, she is brutally slapped across the face. Many Western refugees try to escape to South Africa. But in vain many, for this outcome, bit the wind. But with a detour, some did cross over safely from there to here.

Tired and worn out with their survival drive flattened to zero. Sion comes to meet them to take them by the hand. Yes, I see a wine press with moss drained of human blood. I hear marching music to the tune of a war song and see Gog and Magog on the warpath.