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18 Then from the altar came forth still another angel who was in charge of the fire, and he cried out in a loud voice to the one who had the sharp sickle, “Take your sharp sickle and gather the clusters from the vines of the earth, for her grapes are ripe.”

19 So the angel swung his sickle over the earth and gathered in its vintage, which he then cast into the great winepress of God’s wrath. 20 The winepress was trodden outside the city, and blood flowed from the winepress to the height of a horse’s bridle for a distance of two hundred miles.

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