Beware the Signs

Wider and the darker are the ghosts of Houdini and the pledge made often. The effervescent torpedo of the hits on thee often cause deficits for the destitute, and portions of the wheat and the money and the wallet often causes challenges, as do the exchangers of thy pockets. The demons and Heaven never saw the escape and the peril of the bees and the hive. The mental and the workers and the darkest of thy sins and the dead and in me, and the angels and representatives of the wasp and the bees and you dead in the cross are like the bloody Argentinian and the masses and Midas and the whores of Poseidon. Don't forget the Israelis and the many of them and the red bloods of the combat and the oceans and the dead in capsules and the will of Satan.

Woes to hives and of your markers and the oceans and the boiling seas and the redness and the purple races and the many of the souls trapped in the dead seas. The pillars of the hives open to Hell and the Mercury of thy hells are lost, and the seas of thy doom are ever present. From the time of Prussia and the Acropolis, I and the needs of the beige and the frozen and the broken and the personal parts blame you and the soldiers over my wars. You are damned and in me is the blast and the eulogy and the waste and the pouring over thy sympathy. Many of the tortures of a world at war, along with the dogma and the priests and the wars and the gods are tiring and senseless.

We have a paradox of the nations and the desolated imagery and the parliament and the halls of the representable who are potent and yet ineffective. We have the geeks and the soldiers and the many fortunes of and all the while thy Lord Father does deliver your souls; Woes to you and the Mormon and the advent jokes. Woe to the agitators and the western civilisations and the planes and cars and freaks of the coarsest dreams. Often, writers and the wilful seek to understand the giants and the workers and the dead and the wars, but it is a hopeless endeavour. We had the Falklands and the many who have died for the land, and the whores and you governments of the Argentinians with your crickets in the foreground and the bombers in the background leave the holes.

We have the prejudice and the tie for the world's bravest men and the claustrophobic and the world near end times and the wilful massacre of the islanders and the British and yet we can't see the truth. The mistress of Hell is busy and the infernal and the blame and the feral and the wallet and the politics and the world near the end is oblivious. Woe to the killers of the land and the seas and the dormant and the tide of the clowns and the flying passenger missiles of the Ground Zero and the atom bombs of Hiroshima and Nagasaki and all the rest. We are all dead men.

The greenhouse effect and the ozone and the wormhole at thy axis and the workers and the members of the churches who worship Jesus and say the Hail Mary of Catholicism struggle with the Nazis and the brokers of their fathers; thy son cries over the suffering and the dead of the horticulture vermin and the rats under the ground and Tobruk and the killing fields of thy Great war. The windows of the murderers and the sidewinder jet and the liars and the brokers of the demon and the soldiers of arms and munitions are at the mercy of the commanders. Woe to the world of the caves and the mushrooms and the bombs and the forest blights and the criminals. Woe to the terrorists, the gangland murderers and the other killers; And in thee and the omens, the Gods of War and the American economy and their cash and gold, and the wines and the drugs will run rampant and wreak havoc. We are no better off than in the times of the Pharaohs of Egypt.

We have those who portion the wheat and the starvation as in the days of Joseph, and the silos are empty while the gold of Fort Knox proliferates for the rich. The soldiers and the Hebrews and the paramount sleazes and the goddesses of the American Revolution in 2038 will laugh. The worshippers of the grain and the worms and the germ plant wars will prevail. Woe to the son and the father stung by the killer African bees and the wasps and the swarms within the cadaver. Woes to yours in the years 3036, and Phillip and the queen and the whores and the naked women who have the 666 on their foreheads. The locust kings and the robust devils of mankind and the Sutra and the rodent bull and thy mantra over one billion lifetimes will not suffice for salvation.

The Indian nations and the terrorists and the grain hoarders and the workers under the burden of the laws of the land will suffer. Israel forbids this and the towns of Armageddon and their clientele and the prowess of the world archbishop and thy internet and the computers will prevail. The Israelites and their Pharisees of old are the same today, with their fights with the Palestinians, in killing often the king of the leaders and the wilful deadening of decency. They and others will be wiped clean and razed and the jets will fly and the dog hijackers and the robust devils themselves will punish the infidel. The wallet and chalice in you and thy jackal and the lion, anti-Christian and the wolves and the beliefs of the Romans of old will haunt you. The Egyptians and the Israelites and even those of Newfoundland and the workers and frog prince will all face the same doom in the year 3670 A.D.

The wonder of hell and of evils and the affidavit jokes will no longer be so funny. Many can't see, and the domain and the redbrick and the colt of thy Romans I rode, are beyond your ken. The Romans bowed down before the dais and ye bow to my underbelly, and the mobs run rampant and cause horror encouraged by Satan's legions. Many rode on the backs often thy king, who held the cornerstone and the milestone around their necks. The grout and the brick will not last forever. Woe to the sickened and the belt of the beer and the beer swillers. I drove thy dove and the Ark to thy stolen enmity, and intimate and the retribution for the publican and the buyers and the dough makers causes fallacy injurious to the dormant and unwary.

The brokers and the savages who buy the savage bread and the dowry, and the mentally reduced are the archetype of the Romans. These are the mankind of their day and many were 70 feet tall. Woes to goddesses, these were the gods and found among them the heel of Archimedes. Woes to those of Christ, and the willet and thine chalice and the many of you who are dead. The crosses and the gruel of thy stout and the beer are more important than the fever of the slayers and the seizure of Pilate. The brewers are never still in their production of wine nor in the bleat of the goat. The cloven hoof and the swills of thy porridge and goats breed nothing but liars, and the bread and the milk is foul with pigs. The seekers of the occult laugh at the image of Peter hanging upside down while the will of the devil, the grape and the father's doing guides them.

I'll thirst of the pride and the prize and the demons and the partaker of thy gods, buried under the Judas tree. And the pit Jacob formed and the devilish and the whores of ye and of ancient and modern Rome is filled with the souls of the dead. You say you've claimed your penance and deem that the money you gave is enough. It is not. You can't buy your way into heaven.

The nations and thy Israel kingdom of Hades and the well of the lost souls and the great whores, and the colt rode the Romans and thy...