Sunlight has entered the farm, piercing the fog,
the waters above the earth have begun to part;
and the test of every soul is at hand.

Once, I had the notion of Armageddon,
as pictured in the story books;
a war like unto the other wars,
which mankind has before experienced.

The twisting of words is manipulative,
and the hoax;
has come upon the nations, unprepared.

But it was this way from the beginning,
and has been seen throughout human history;
that the power of language,
surpasses the power of arms.

The mixing in the cauldron has been underway,
from the very fall of Lucifer as Satan;
a mixing of lies with half-truths.

This is the spark which Satan can't see,
that under fabrication lies a truth;
beneath the word, there lies its spirit.

Face value of the dollar is shattered today.

In one has been found the value of a number,
and in a number of great magnitude;
there has been found no more than debt.

Reason has been the making of machines,
and this is broken;
for the judge has studied intent.

The catacombs of Christians is their death,
for they have seen the outward signs;
approaching the cross their eyes perceive.

To the horror of Auschwitz, they gather,
beneath a conquering king;
whose heart has harbored murder.

This is Judas Iscariot,
who walked beside our Lord;
so that in him, armies gather,
and through him, and with him,
and in him, The Apostasy occurs.

This is the falling away,
for they flock to an evil shepherd;
who looks like unto a lamb.

Gather, my children, to the coat of Maria,
touching the hem of her coat, Cuapa;
and feeling her wool coat, La Salette.

For an evil sign has appeared,
imposter to the throne, Medjugorje;
who speaks of peace without the cross,
speaks to the children she gathers,
empty words of peace.

Our True Mother does not speak of peace,
for her mysteries are those of war;
upon the crown she wears,
the weapon of great destruction, The Rosary.

Peace comes but through the cross,
not merely in its decoration, which holds no value;
but in the wounds that it inflicts on Christians.

Surrering, O suffering,
guestmate to my heart;
O suffering.

Here is the true wisdom of God,
that peace has its price;
the city must be conquered,
and for this, war first breaks out.

Then you may have your peace.

©2026 Maria Morisot