In the forthcoming weeks, months and last years, with a shrinking world crowd. So of what use, oh human, are all your credit cards and all your financial assets? Yes, in a lost state, already so Godforsaken? Look, in the great famine man will beg for just a handful of wheat ears. But after the big grasshopper plague, their eyes search in vain for just a few green tree leaves.  

Oh, in the forthcoming weeks, months and last years, in the shrinking surviving crowd, the last political heads will soon roll. In the great Godly silence, the entire world stands Godforsaken now and the global chaos is bursting completely out of its seams.

In the forthcoming weeks, months and last years of suffering, man is engulfed by unbelievable, unthinkable big dangers. So listen to the end-time-song, played on the wind-harp-strings of an archangel and know that the world is now paying for all its sins, abominations and indecent dirty deeds.

In the forthcoming weeks, months and last years, everyone is now crossing their war-swords with each other. The devil throws his last trump cards and the nations fight bloody over the very last merchandise. And in the Great Godly silence, all the lost ones stand dismayed, so completely Godforsaken.