Awaiting the lord's recapulation of pas days. Angels escorting to what is believed to be the final resting place. A lifetime of speculation about to be realised. An unexpected revelation from a god who's words have not known discordance. Contemplation perverts my image of eternity. Forgotten texts, denied by the church, speak the truth. Only the dead now know the messenger. Excommunicated, the flock now moves blind east, out of my kingdom. Due to our denial of the saint, all now shall suffer the fate sentenced to me. Scalding winds of pain encircling in tormet everlasting shall be.