Azrael, the angel of death, in the Third Heaven is mirrored here on Earth in the form of door-knocking messengers.
They smile and offer paradise that smells of smoke from the abyss.
In their bag of books are "meals" prepared in Bethel cauldrons stirred by MacBeth's witches whose fertile minds are aflame with
the shadowy spirit of their tribal god, Jehovah.
The stench and rot are fragrances to their nostrils as they sigh, "Ahh, food at the proper time; meat in due season!"
All the while, an expiration date on their foreheads blinks 1914! 1914! 1914! to hypnotise the unwary householder with an invisible pyramid of shallow proofs.
"The TRUTH", they cackle, "is a countdown to extinction.....YOUR extinction." And they take you by the hand to a Valley of Shadows shaped as a Kingdom Hall.
You are met at the door by slaves bereft of soul who greet you cheerily behind eyes dark with emptiness like a doll's.
Once inside, your sanity leaks out into pools of anonymity, estrangement from life and the ignorance only true believers can endure.
Each word that falls upon your mind forges a link for your shackles.
Each promise falls upon parched earth were nothing ever grows.
Every shining hope is drowned in tears and bereavements.
Every passing hour knells the dawn that never comes.
Unless.....
.................unless................you close your door to these unwitting Angels of Death and bid them no return!
For that is your only hope!
