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In an alarming sound, I hear the Knave of Spades whistling his monotonous tune. I see how relentless, cruel, he gathers his loot. While he unlocks the doors of Hades, I see countless many souls disappear into hell’s insatiable stomach. Yes, with no help or mercy that can stop or halt their fall.   

I see large areas on earth destroyed, in total disuse. This, because of the consequences of the consumer’s uncontrollable consumption. I hear a scared child crying sorrowfully. He is hungry, cold, wet, and dirty. With no place where he can take shelter, his mother has traded him to a cannibal for a single bread.    

I look outside, through a dirty, grey, murky window. I hear the Grim Reaper whistling his monotonous tune. Anchored to a rusted chain, his boat is waiting there on the Death-river. Yes, Satan’s ship, stinking overwhelmingly of death. The portals of hell are again unlocked for multitudes.    

I hear how the bombs whistle out of Russia. I see how an evil West misuse this. While they cunningly try to evade the blame of a well-planned war. I hear the Angel of Death whistling his monotonous tune. I see his gigantic black bag, with his loot of souls inside it.

I see the masses murdering and looting in Africa. In complete madness, only the concept of looting reigns. But I see the child of Revelation drawing his bow and shooting at Raca with a clod. It flies high and wide, and reach deep into the deep, dark pool. I hear heaven exclaiming; this was now indeed excellent.   

Look, then Raca stood stripped, stripped even of his Western wig.  I see a green, green bush, yes, a burning brush. I know the rod of Moses is again used by the holy volk, to their rescue. So, let the Knave of Spades whistle and whistle his monotonous tune of death, because soon the end-time-story will be fulfilled and finished.