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I see a war field sown with corpses. I hear a general that consoles. He calls: It is time to stop. But another warlord commands: Reload and let it rip. It is now way to late to want to turn around.  Yes, to turn around from anarchy to peace.  

With the fat in the fire now, the cracklings are barbecued to charcoal. In Africa, Canaan betrayed himself in Cush. Therefore, the political winds swinged in all directions in destructive twisters. In this big chaos that was sown, death brought in an enormous harvest.   

On this continent, the big powers wilfully interfere in each other’s affairs. But from the Ukraine the winds of war will first blow over to the West. The big cannons are standing heavily loaded. Without a suspension of arms, it will let it rip, uninterrupted. One after the next country will therefore soon be finished. Yes, with the UN’s flag that will never ever fly victoriously on the mast again.