I give thanks to You, O Lord for You have redeemed my soul from the pit, from Sheol and Abaddon. You have raised me up to an eternal height, so that I might walk about on a limitless plain, and know that there is hope for him whom You created from the dust for the eternal council. The perverse spirit You have cleansed from transgression that he might take his stand with the host of the holy ones, and enter together with the congregation of the sons of heaven. And for man, you have allotted an eternal destiny with the spirits of knowledge, to praise Your name together with the shouts of joy, and to recount Your wonders before all your creatures. But I a creature of clay, what am I? Kneaded with water, for whom am I to be reckoned, and what is my strength? For I have taken my stand with the domain of wickedness, and I am with the wretched by lot. The soul of the poor dwells with great tumults, thus great disasters accompany my steps. When all the traps of the pit open, and all the wicked snares and the net of the wretched ones are spread out on the water when all the arrows of the pit fly off without returning and burst forth without hope, when the measuring line falls upon judgment and the lot of wrath upon those that are abandoned, when the outpouring of wrath upon the pretenders and the time of anger for all which belongs to Belial, when the snares of death have surrendered with no escape, then the torrents of Belial shall go over all the high banks, like fire that devoured all their channels� So as to destroy every green tree and dry tree alongside their tributaries. It spreads with sparks from the flames, until all the drink from them are gone. It devours the cliffs of clay and the plains; the foundations of the mountains are set to burning and the roots of flint become torrents of pitch. It devours right down to the great deep. The torrents of Belial burst through into Abaddon, and the plotters from the deep make an uproar with the noise of those who belch forth slime. The earth shouts out, because of the disaster which comes about in the world and all its plotters scream. All who are upon it behave as if mad, and they melt away in the great disaster. For God thunders with the roar of His strength and His Holy dwelling roars forth in His glorious truth. Then the heavenly hosts shall raise their voice and the everlasting foundations shall melt and quake. The war of the heroes of heaven shall spread over all the world and shall not return until the annihilation that has determined from eternity is completed. Nothing like this has ever happened before.
You have stretched out the heavens for your Glory, you have formed all their hosts according to your will, and the powerful spirits according to their laws, before they became your holy angels� as eternal spirits in their dominions, luminaries for their mysteries, stars according to their paths, and all the storm winds according to their duty, meteors and lightening bolts according to their service, and the store houses designed for their needs� for their secrets..
