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The sickle rose against the sword. While the machete, yes, the panga, would defeat itself. This, while the sickle, razor sharp, would go through the harvest. The world’s wheat has rotted away. Therefore, it is time for the kings of the nations to rise from their thrones.

To fight each other in war for the sake of survival. Or, to flee like a coward. In the current nasty, global, political war–of–words of blame and reproach. In any case, all the governments hit at each other but missed hopelessly. But with flaunting muscles bulging, the West once again holds herself so high in authority, so important.

In her haughtiness-delusion, she reckoned that everyone would stand back in terror of her. But towards her the East raised its sabre menacingly. So that Europe reluctantly, without choice, must raise her blunt sword in self-defence, to strike back.

Africa once again wanted to strike the sickle through the harvest like a big shot. But her machete, the panga, only went through her own midst. The blood flowed on that continent like water from an open faucet. With a dagger in one hand and a throwing spear in the other, America now stands with her back against the wall.

In her midst, conservative and liberal stood in two camps, aggressively facing each other. Her army was divided, generals and officers rose against each other. This, while Russia’s sickle would strike unceasingly, accurately, in all directions. While the great world–harvest perishes in nuclear attacks.