...I had a salowe vision wherein were fiery serpents and scorpions and drought ...sand, in an abrasive swirling murk, covered the crackled book of life... A testimony from the dimension of regret. This voice comes from the second right after the disaster when all there is left to say in a distressed whisper is It is too late. The irreparable has been carved in stone and those made accountable for it are you. Standing, shivering in cold dim light waiting for the sentence of the Holy Dead like Adam and Eve at the end of time. One may argue that it was flawed since the beginning that the dice were loaded that God had it all within that He is the Source. O heavenly Father! pathogen agent of contamination, harbinger of catastrophe, icon of the impending Fall: but what difference does it make? Altitudines Satanæ - the vertigo of Liberty tipped the scales. A shadow of horror is risen. This will not be redeemed no matter how sincere the genuflection and ardent the confession.
