Behold his soul roars from afar islands: everlasting mountains are scattered before him.

The hills bow’s down cleaving to the earth with river’s of salvation.

The roar tear in pieces enough for it’s whelps.

Silence is folded together as blankets, fierceness of his anger is poured like fire.

Lightning speed knows her beholder from the realms of the creation.

His terrible roar makes the mountains tremble and the overflowing water’s surpasses by.

Desert’s drinks and quench their thirst!

Oceanside never cease to drink from the dry grounds kissing the sands of time.

The foundation of wickedness and her people meet up with the reserved vengeance in his time of wrath.

He becomes a peace to those who walk upright in the midst of his wrath.

Strife and contention of the evening wolves beholds to grievances:

And there’s no healing for those who survives his treacherous judgement.

Peace be to the king continually.