Virus

It's nothing but a disease.
Festering, putrid and bubbling pus,
Filling up all your pores
Making you teem with anger and depression.

It seeps into your brain, twisting your mind into thinking things. Things no one should think.
Things that the devil himself kept hidden away.
For not even he is that cruel.

But the virus got out.
By none other than it's keeper.
That disgusting, vile bitch.
She who has only your ruin on your mind.

And with the virus in her hand,
What can you do?
It poisons your very essence.
Corrupting whatever you had been.

You thought you knew this guardian of the universe's demise.
You loved her.
You did everything for her.
And she crushed you, almost into nothingness.

Now she has a weapon.
What will she do now?
She finish what she started.
Because she's a creature of the shadow's twisted shadows.

And virus in hand, she torments you.
And it kills me, as I am helpless.
And she laughs, thinking she's won.
It's only a matter of time before her goal is complete.

There is but one way to combat the virus.
For the one who wields it.
Fight. Persevere. Hope.
Whether I must drag you through the steps kicking and screaming.

You won't give up.
You will beat this creature of hatred.
And you shall do it all without becoming what she is.
Without giving in to your deepest, most horrific thoughts.

You are the only cure for what this witch is reaping upon you.
And you will inject it into your soul.
And into hers as well.
For you are the antidote.

And there is nothing you can't do.