How then do you stand? What then is the meter of your steps? What shall endure? What shall beside you stand? All shall pass away. All shall fade. What then is hope? What then is this thing called future? Nothing, all is nothing. What shall you build? What shall you cause to endure? You are nothing; nothing was your origination and, nothing you shall ever be. Nothing shall endure. Be silent ye wretch, dust, water, and breath, no more. Flame maker, smith of darkness, artificer of despair. The works, the craft of men shall bring forth its inevitable result. By destruction does man eke out his destiny and by destruction shall destiny be fulfilled. Be silent the tongue of thy ignorance! Thy death be comfort even should it be to the darkness that the roads of your fate have decreed. Be gone lest the hypocrisy of your ways be manifest on the unchosen. Be gone and return to thy squalor. You are worth of nothing, not even that, so rejoice that such is given to you, wretch. Vagrant, cipher, wrath, I name you. Soul of depravity in depravity housed.

In depravity are the first fruits of your labors revealed before men. Yet they see not the works of their hand and hold themselves blameless in account of what comes thereof. O wondrous mechanization, O glorious work, in mourning do I gaze upon the ravages inflicted upon you. Formed of dust, water, and breath. Who but the maker’s hand could bring such as you to be? Thus do I mourn. You are like the dawn fearfully and wondrously made. Like the sun in its splendor which rises with the dawn to give light to the earth and illuminate therein the works of the creator’s hand and the inequity of men before all that they might be without

excuse of what with their own eyes have seen. Where in you should dwell the image of the living God there is only squalor. Indwelt of darkness, inhabited of evil, all who have breath would morn were they not that which is thy tenant. O agony of my own wretched spirit that I am not exempt of my own prosecutions. Yet, what am I? I am truly of my fellows and deserve no right to speak such. Truth is greater than I and truth I have spoken. Yet what is known in part is spoken in part. Perhaps to my joy the hand of the maker is against me in this. Yet not is my fear. Yet by the works of our hands we have done you harm grievous and mortal. Our flesh shall return to dust. What more harm could we produce? We have brought about this doom. Our hands are stained with our own blood. We have inserted the knife and on our hands is death. Memento Mori; remember death. All you men look and take pride, look and see the bright future you have made. Look and go, I will have no part of you, go and take thy inequity with you. Go and die for that is your fate. Die and leave me be. Leave me to my misery, leave me to my own fate, leave me. But more than this, go and leave me at peace.