I fell to earth with a rusted knife

I fell to earth with a rusted knife.  For many years I nested on a tree-shaped cloud like a wicked bird.  One day, for no good reason, I blinked my eyes and plummeted to the ground.  Wicked birds do not fly, they plummet.  The ground was wet.  I rubbed mud on my face.  My powers were immense. 

I landed at the feet of a poor stupid man.  While he stood there stammering, I undressed him and cut him into five hundred pieces.  Each piece was a perfect cube.  It took me less than one second.  The smell of wet earth made me sick.  To diminish my nausea, I performed a meaningless feat of amazing physical and mental dexterity.  With my eyes closed, I stacked the man’s remains into a menacing rectangular prism.  It was perfect.  God did not weep at my evil act.  He laughed if he noticed at all.  I laughed too, gazed at my knife, and lithely pressed it into my left eye.  This game continued until the rusted blade peeked through my right eye.  I did not blink, though the movement of the knife was very slow.  The experience was sublime and lasted exactly 56 minutes.