Still another angel, who was in charge of the fire on the altar, came out and called out in a loud voice to the angel who had the sharp sickle. “Take your sharp sickle,” he said, “and gather the bunches of grapes from the earth’s vine, because they’re ripe.”
The fourth angel blew his trumpet, and a third of the sun was struck, a third of the moon was struck, and a third of the stars were struck, so that a third of each of them turned dark. Then a third of the day was without light, and so was a third of the night.
I watched as the Lamb broke open the sixth seal. There was a powerful earthquake. The sun turned black like sackcloth made out of goat’s hair. The whole moon turned blood red,