“Get out of Babylon as fast as you can. Run for your lives! Save your necks! Don’t linger and lose your lives to my vengeance on her as I pay her back for her sins. Babylon was a fancy gold chalice held in my hand, Filled with the wine of my anger to make the whole world drunk. The nations drank the wine and they’ve all gone crazy. Babylon herself will stagger and crash, senseless in a drunken stupor—tragic! Get anointing balm for her wound. Maybe she can be cured.” * * * “We did our best, but she can’t be helped. Babylon is past fixing. Give her up to her fate. Go home. The judgment on her will be vast, a skyscraper-memorial of vengeance. “GOD has set everything right for us. Come! Let’s tell the good news Back home in Zion. Let’s tell what our GOD did to set things right. “Sharpen the arrows! Fill the quivers! GOD has stirred up the kings of the Medes, infecting them with war fever: ‘Destroy Babylon!’ GOD’s on the warpath. He’s out to avenge his Temple. Give the signal to attack Babylon’s walls. Station guards around the clock. Bring in reinforcements. Set men in ambush. GOD will do what he planned, what he said he’d do to the people of Babylon. You have more water than you need, you have more money than you need— But your life is over, your lifeline cut.” * * *
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