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From a spiritual-heaven-height, Elijah’s terrifying words come. Drought-drought, therefore no wine drips from the dry vines. Drought-drought, with no fruit from the barren orchards. Drought-drought, from the sun-scorched grain fields, there is no flour for the bread. Drought-drought, so the income of the church synod also dies.

From a prophetic height, frightfully comes the song of Elijah’s cruel chords. Drought-drought, comes his song on dry convection currents. Yes, on the heat waves of famine notes. It comes from an ancient, prophesied Ode. So the heavenly messenger comes, but almost no one understands the hidden code.

It calls from the mountains and echoes through the ravines. It comes running across fields and plains as it robs the world of provisions. Therefore listen, oh blind ones, and all deaf ones. The Word of God did not prophesy and promise the falling scales in vain.

Look, Elijah is here, and the witnesses stand alone, rejected by the world. Therefore, listen to the sign in the crack of cannon- and rifle shots. See the warships sailing in great fleets. The dead are now gathering globally in countless numbers. Most of them fell due to the great drought. Elijah’s words come frighteningly, and it says: drought-drought.