Under the black, burnt Garnet shrub the useless shards of the broken oil jar are lying. Yes, there where the vulture is diving down to his feast. Everything in the empty world stomach has already been consumed.   

Clutched in the Judgment Fist, the key appears, offered to the prophet house, yes the key to the big heaven sluice. In the death-rustling in drought murmur, there where the great drought destructively crosses the path of the terrible floodwaters.

So, rip the hideous haughtiness-wig from Raca’s head, so that he can smell the death-decay of Africa perishing in famine. Look, there is no gold or silver left in Europe’s safe and therefore large parts of the East lie crushed in war.

Listen to the oceans roaring wildly around America, while category four storms are going to cross each other’s paths destructively across her surface. Yes, while big tsunamis are going to crush Indonesia and her neighbors into rubbish dumps.

Under the black-burnt Vineyard-shrub the useless shards of the once-so-beautiful but now broken freshwater jar are lying. Yes, there where the Big Eagle is diving down onto His liberal white prey, there the Spirit of Truth is first going to outsmart the big lie in Victory.