Three Pieces Of Glass

 

We are going to cut the world, with three pieces of glass.  The blood of the ancients rectified at last.  Until the curse of suffering has been lifted.  We are drowning in the murky depths of dusk.  The silt of our yesterdays left in compleat silence.  We are invisible angels of death, as well as destiny.  We have come to ravage earth with plagues.

 

Akasha unseen.  Akasha unheard.  Akasha misunderstood.  All three in darkness as one true angel of night.  Listen to those shards cut into the flesh of life.  The damned may speak ill of the living.  But only without sounds or noises.