.
The angel of retribution's iron wings displayed a camp of ice in the city today.
That angel from Germany, broken his ankles, dressed in a black wool's tunic? Himself: you know him.
His curled hairs did sway slowly in the blizzards that himself created, and for a while, his deeds were not matter of ulterior judgement: for a while, the time did stand still (phrase which contains a paradox, as you can see).
Standing at the city gates, he beheld this Babylon with fury: the angel stopped the Sun on its path, and the sleepers who, slowly, started waking up, realised that the Sun was an absent friend that dawn: and it was in the middle of the Summer...the population was begging for the new dawn to come.
The sunrise was verified at 7 PM.
That day, the roosters crowed in the evening
along with Saint Joseph of Arimathea and his teardrops: green evening for a red Sun
the angel left, taking all the ice toward Germany, homeland of the ices.
That year was named the Green Year, because of the green evening, and because of the green eyes of the angel, and their furious stare; the ice was green too.
Saint Joseph of Arimathea returned walking slowly, full of peace, by an eternally sunny and dusty path, toward the celestial Ieru Shalom; where only the circumcized enters: and the goy and the dog and the whore, they are rejected, and die fulminated at the gates.
Fulminated at the gates.
They die fulminated at the gates.
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