As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
The prostitute of America has fallen, fallen, fallen
The cadaver will not be helped
She no more shall ever rise.
A day of disaster is coming upon the West. America will not rise from this, but as the aged whore serving the necrophiles in the morgue ejaculating currency upon her, she rots on her couch, a tool of the ghoul.
It will be a day for the rich to become poor, a day for the living to become the dead, a day of anguish and tears for money, and not for their rich people's sins.
You sit in your wealth like pigs covered in their own excrement, oinking away at another rainfall of Wall Street wealth, adding to your sty. The finest of things you can not find away to squander upon yourselves, and you think your pennies of generosity should give you the worship which only God deserves.
America is ruined. You replaced Jesus with the image of Obama. You replaced the fruit of the womb with the canker of infanticide. You replaced your Niggers with foreigners. You replaced your wealth with debt. Yet you do not mourn, but only sigh over the pile of money you have which is eaten by the moth of inflation. Yet it only moves you to accept more bribes in your dividends, stealing more from the poor.
God hates your pride and in the day of disaster He will shove you over to the masters you have sold yourself to as He did Judah and Israel.
Listen, but do not be warned, you apostate trash. The day of disaster, will follow upon rumor, and the rumor will spread to other days. There will be a day when nine out of ten people will die. The one will be left in the house to answer a refrain to the question, "Is there anyone left here?", and the reply will be, "No."
Does a jet fly in the ocean? Does money grow on trees? Yet you Americans have changed justice into poison killing the nations.
You are corrupt and bankrupt in purse and heart. There is no good in you. You are vile and evil cancers from your places of leadership to your computer screens. One pervert leads the mob by a ring in the nose, and those who do not have the ring, put one in each nostril and a chain upon their ankle to prostitute themselves for serving debauchery more.
How perverse you are, the Governors of Alaska, New Jersey, Wisconsin and Texas, all led to the political slaughter, so the orgy of the monarchs of America can sully the bed of whoredoms more at 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue.
You brag of your victories in battle. What real army have your crushed? You might as well claim Battle Star Gallactica as your great victory too for all the bin Laden stage theater of your acting conquests.
The day of disaster will envelop you with a foreign army and what of it, when you have already been invaded by millions of foreigners to serve the rich in forced labor.
The day of disaster will encompass you from the Aleutians to the Keys, from Bangor to Baja.
"Go away Prophetess and tell us not these things. Go to a people who will pay you for your Prophesying. Tell us not the doom of our leader and the overthrow of America. Tell us not that the West will be a graveyard and our coffers will be coffins overflowing with our own rotted stench.
Let those others pay you. Do not Prophesy here and touch our hearts with your Prophesying, for we are good."
If your goodness be good, then disease, plague and pandemic, are a virtue to the dead and dying. I came not for pay, but a Spirit of the brier patch, where I minded the small herds and tended the small herb.
I was moved with the Message, not to save, but as a Witness, and you, yourselves have provided the testimony.
I was poor and you stole from me. I was devout and you made a whore of me. I was light and you made me twilight. I was free and you made me a slave, by stealing the 30 pieces of silver from the poor in making them donate for you rich.
The records of your actions are cut now in a sheet of steel, with a pen of diamond and are open for Judgment.
Listen to your sentence, for it is by your own actions and words. A thousand fold more will it be visited upon you, twice over, till there is none of you remaining. You who plagiarized will have no reply from God when you call, and you who bribed once, will have one reply from God, and the answer will be, "No".
Perish in your luxury. Perish in your streets. Perish in your gated organized communities. Perish in your boughten advantage. Perish as you flee in your cars. Perish, Perish, Perish.
Hide from it, and it will visit you. Flee from it and it will catch you. Be aware of your nativity for you have seen your grave at your door, and there will no shroud of dirt to cover you. Your shroud will be a swarm of flies. Your dirge the buzz of their wings. Your mourners dogs howling in lament over which corpse to choose, and your last supper the feast of the fowls perched upon the carrion you are.
You will be whores. You will be slaves. You will be dead.
Cleanse the land Lord of the offal, for the people you have raised as your own, have been consumed by the satanic mob, to make an excrement of the land. The day of disaster multiplies to the days of disaster.
Come quickly Lord Jesus for your children who are called by Your Name. Amen and Amen
agtG 268Y
