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Oh, what good is the false word of peace, Shalom. There where the vultures gather around an old carcass. Woe therefore, O Jewry, and woe to you Edom. Behold my king is coming, my King is coming and in His coming His
enemies all perish.

An upside-down script written on the Vatican ceiling, becomes the story of a deceased pope’s end. The great ones of the world are gathered and bunched around it.

To come disguised as the angel of death in the fall of billions of souls, but also already old and crooked. In their midst stands another loose cannon.

And with the voice of Balaam as their great bastion. There comes a solar eclipse, brought about by the wings of a great pitch-black falcon. It comes over the kingdom of flies, over the city of London. There where the blowflies hum.

It darkens and obscures the rays of the Mason sun. Thus fall the walls of many a Western city, built of steel, glass and concrete. I hear an angel call: Oh, this is the second and final fall of Sodom.

Look, the great abomination is here, it has already come. So, what does the world still benefit from the false word of peace, shalom? Yes, there where the vultures gather around an old carcass.

So, know oh Jewry, and know also you oh Edom. Sion’s King is coming, oh He is coming and behold, Sion’s oppressors all perish, to the benefit of Hell and Hades, on Elohim’s illustrious day.