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In a strange heaven choir, where the heavenly hosts lost themselves in the beauty thereof. Yes, in the words thereof, which captivates the entire creation. Comes the song that the martyrs wanted to hear for so long.

From the king’s-roar of four white maned lions, the Holy word comes in old, pure Hebrew. Two witnesses, the one a pitch-black sparrow, the other a snow-white seagull. Both give a loud cry and the planet is covered in snow for a period.

Let those that want to know therefore hear clearly. Of unprecedented mercy for the sealed ones, stored for the new period. Let those without spiritual-hearing, let them not hear the words of the pure song.

Look, the battle was fought and the world has lost. Their sorrow and grief come as a pair, yes in a double measure.