In a dark cold night, where Elohim’s Angel visits every house, there every Caucasian heart is searched from top to bottom.

Look, the fishing net has already been drawn, with all the noble fishes fastidiously selected. But for the last time the Great Fisherman lowers his very last fishhook so hopeful.

An Angel calls: It is time, bring closer the great Book of Life now. So woe to each one who will search this book for his/her name in vain.

Then I hear a nation, with gnashing teeth, weeping they ask: Oh who can prevent it and who is left who can preserve and protect us.

Again I hear the angel calling: Too late, too late, completely too late for this request, because Mercy’s Blood has, with the exception of a few, visited the doorpost to life of very few.