The Deceit of Apocalypse

A low hiss, barely above a whisper,

Beckoning, suggesting, calling.

Careless not, but ever calculating,

Deceiving, rotting deeper.

Everything at stake, but he tells not of that,

For he can make everything seem like nothing at all.

Gradually deeper he coaxes you to fall.

Hindrance feeling like freedom, all else falling flat.

I must warn you, you have been deceived.

Just as you think all will be solved by his talk so cheap,

Knowing dawns: this is no bright blooming, but a slow rot of mold.

Losing more and more of your remaining hold,

Moving now, falling, you disappear into the dark, creviced deep.

No more room to breathe, slow suffocation consumes you.

Over is any hope of escape, he has extinguished your very being.

Powerlessly you feel yourself want to give in to the fading.

Quickly surrendering, all hope lost, nothing left to do.

Running out of time, you begin to assess your trial.

Something makes you seek help from the very one who destroyed you,

To beg and plea for this not to be true.

Understanding not the deep state of your denial.

Vying with the end, and not the only one,

Wet shreds of skin peel away with a sickening smell.

Xanthic bile chokes the last spark of life from your shell.

You finally glimpse the truth of what you have become:

Zombified and destroyed by sin.