Oh, how wide and easy was the path, which would unexpectedly fall over the eternal abyss. Therefore the end-time trumpet, somewhat unexpectedly, but warningly, trumpeted loudly. The world resisted with all that it has. But death claims its own price in large numbers.  

Look, in rot and decay the entire world soon becomes completely mad. Yes, the axe is now against the trunk and the tree is just chopped down. So woe to each fruit without the Godly, life-giving sap.

The harvest is gathered and the grapes pressed and only the best moss is drained for the New Period. The rest goes to the fire oven and the ash thereof is scratched into a hell-swamp. The Messenger calls: He that is coming, He purifies with fire and there is nothing impure that will escape His Judgment. Yes, He separates the good wheat from the throwaway chaff and He Himself digs a deep, dark grave for the big lie and the abomination church.

He cracks His whip so that the four horses of Revelation begin to trot in all directions across the earth while the Judgment splashes globally. Yes, the holy angels sing: Oh woe to stupid mankind who treated God as just a senseless joke.