As another Lame Cherry exclusive in matter anti matter.
For you haughty American, both rich and poor, for you of the other tribes of the west, the Bible reading of this day divined for you.
Behold in your mirror, of Isaiah the Prophet, you will be as the dead brought low. From the level of the ground you will speak unburied to the winds. Your voice the whisper of dust in the air from your prostate form.
Your words will come from your blood and from the instrument of your bones, like a ghost moaning from the ground, vanquished in the haunt of your mass death.
This speaks to you, denier of God and denier of what spiritual death you are. This speaks to you and not hearing, heeding nor listening, death of the first and death of the second, will speak to you.
The Lord God will assemble your enemies in all forms and ways. He will bring them to cover you like the fine dust upon a long dead corpse, filling ever cravice.
They will be an absolute ruthless multitude, unfilled. They will crave to your very breath and covet that too, to suffocate you from the haughty existence, you think is your protection.
Awake, Awake!!!, no coming dead one, slumber in your stupor, and await the fox, the coyote, the wolf in the shadows. They eat you alive and you feel not, but you are the meal already, and you will not arise, nor flee, but watch as they gnaw your gut and clamp upon your throat for your end.
They will bereave you of life, but be not filled. As the storm of them fills the land, they will be vanquished by the hand of the Lord, not for your sakes, but for His Namesake, in the children still hidden under His coat.
They dream of you, in all you have, and in cravings and thirst they awake in partaking of you, and are empty and not filled. They come for the banquet merrily singing your dirge.
You rely on your seers, you contemptable ones. They are your eyes and they can not make up their minds of glory or woe. They have had their eyes blindfolded and now you seek understanding, but the words are too beyond your minds to comprehend.
You ask what the words of the Prophetess mean, but none will tell you, for the words are sealed to you. Asked to read, they will reply that they do not know the words, yet they can spell them.
Your words are meaningless to God for you are not God's. You have a religion worshipping yourselves with the false doctrine of how wonderful you are. You are the bastards of the father of liars, and all you do is lie to yourselves as it was a liar from the start.
Your schemers scheme. You are the benefactors of schemers. You scheme for rule, but scheme for your own demise.
The wilderness you have assassinated the people for, to grasp and to horde for manicured lawns and pampered stock accounts, will return to wilderness again. Trees will sprout from your gutters and weeds will sprout from your cracks. Your bed will be stuffing for a rat's den. Your car a mouse's hole.
In the time of death, there will appear life. The deaf will hear, the blind will see. The poor will enrich the land in the Peace of the Lord, after the time of His great culling of all of you oppressors. God will destroy the liar who prevents justice and prevents the punishment of criminals, subverting the rights of the righteous in honest laws.
Those who survive will then stand before the Lord and no longer grumble at being taught. The grass will shroud the dead, but the fire will uncover to remind the survivors in that monument of bones set in the ashes of the land.
Seek now, but you will not find. Knock, but the doors are locked to not be opened. Ask and no one in Heaven will answer and no one on earth will tell.
Think not sinner, that you are the one who will be spared. Know that the words are for you as when the poor came, you put away your bank cards. When the Prophet spoke, you claimed you did not understand. When Jesus was your Lord, you put Him away for a son of perdition at your Washington City.
You will to have kind words, but where has been any kindness in you, as you are a cauldron of harshness. You will inherit the grave what you have raped your peoples into by your fornication with wealth and power.
Your end is upon you. You are the flock fed for the slaughter.
agtG 215
