In a vision I see a grotesque, snow-white monstrosity pig, yes in the image of an albino praying mantis and look, it has the speech and face of the pope, although it may sound so farfetched.

With a terrifying mason handshake, a two-millennium-old lock is turned and the deepest hell dimension opens from the lavish Vatican, with aftershocks that echoes to the poorest shack.

So, woe to the day of the unknown fungus, born from a sow. Look, a seemingly harmless organism appears, which will cause everything in its path to decay and rot because the fig tree has finished budding, yes before the last big world plot.

The big powers proclaim a new manmade commandment, look, after this they openly play god. So, woe to those who would call out against them, everything is just fraud, because the sword and gallows await them.

During this vision I smell the sweet, sharp, disgusting smell of a dead rat and I hear the previous pope praying out lout, I thank you Oh God, that I am not the giant albino praying mantis.

Look, the Vatican is now only a deep, pitch-black dark cave, yes the entrance to hell, where the strange fungus will cause everything to decay and rot.

So, of what use is the wailing wall, shiny smeared with tears and snot for so many centuries. Look, the old Jerusalem will fall again and this under her own Jewish plot. For two thousand years, it is her predicted lot because the temple claims her Babylon whore-wage and in a dog-price comes the abomination covenant sacrifice of the world-order’s hell-commandment.