You will die in ways you never dreamed. Die in unspeakable ways. So many of you will die, that no one will mourn nor bury you.
You will die in disease. You will die in starvation. You will die in war. You will die in plague and pestilence.
You will die in the darkness and you will die inside searching for death, and death will not come.
The sound of mirth will cease. The sound of the wedding will be no more. Sullenness, sadness and solitary mourning which will have no company in misery will be your course.
You will curse God and still not die for His wrath will consume you like a cancer from the land, a land you have whored in, blasphemed in, butchered His babies in, sodomized in and stolen in.
Sodom will be justified in her sins, for her sins she had limits to, but you have had none.
You have attacked the Prophet and slaughtered the innocence. You have dared touch the anointed one and you have slapped the Holy Ghost.
Yours is your end, your completion, your retribution as you feign religion and justify yourself even now as of God.
The daughter of Babylon will cease in her debauchery as she has spread her vaginal disease to the Virgin Daughter, and made her base.
Holy, holy, holly, is the Lord God of that Day, for it is a Day of Promise, of Comfort, of Balance, for sin will multiplied in it's reward, and the Just living by Faith will be comforted as God is satisfied in that Reckoning Day.
You were born a Virgin and has become a whore. You have become your end for it is the end of your existence.
Has any seen such a thing in trading a treasure for a cesspool? Yes, there has been such a thing in these people for it is of their iniquity.
Mark, mark, no brand them as culls, for their sin is complete, not for three times over, but for four. There is no remedy for them for they have striped naked the Virgin and raped their incest into their whoredoms.
The end is come. It's darkness dawns upon the horizon in a storm of wrath. Darkness, darkness, the pit, the abyss, the fiery lake and the oblivion of torment unending.
Merciful are those whose souls are become ash, for those spirits of rejection linger on in captive destitute anguish.
I rest now.
agtG 266
