Di pipol bi like trees branches wey don dry and skata for groun; wey wimen dey gada take do firewood. So, bikos di pipol nor undastand anytin, God wey kreate dem nor go sorry or pity for dem.
Den fire katch di vine kon burn evritin plus en fruit finish and e nor go ever strong again. E nor go ever bi dat royal rod again. “Dis na di sorrowful song wey dem go always dey sing.”
“I distroy some of una town, just as I distroy Sodom and Gomorrah. And una wey remain bi like stik wey dey burn before dem komot am from fire. With all dis one, una still nor gri turn kom meet mi.” Na so Oga God tok.
Oga God sey, “True-true, Judgement day dey kom; e go kom like strong fire. All doz sturbon and wiked pipol go fall and dat day dem go burn die. Both dia rut and branches go burn finish.
Di fan wey e go take blow kanda komot from korn, dey en hand and e go gada and keep en korn inside store kon burn di dirty for faya wey nor dey kwensh.”