The First Woe
Your joys will cease and the mocking will stop. Your songs will fall silent
All consuming, the sound of human torture. Agony tearing open the ears of the saints
Screaming, begging & pleading for death in any form to steal you away from the affliction; to take you away from the unending horror
Blood emerges in dry clots and your screams are in vain as (death) Abaddon's Hoard overtakes you (tearing your flesh from your bones)
Piercing, ravaging & devouring your will to live. Like leaves to a locust is the flesh of the markless man to these swarms of sadism
And two woes are yet to come..