CAN YOU GUESS THE RIDDLE?

YOU MAKE ME SICK

A lamentable Riddle

Adversary of all the earth. You’re a pandemic that’s slain countless innocents against the transgressions of a few. I hate you! You make me sick for you laugh at my defeat as I give you life with misdeeds of the flesh.

Your manifestations are infinite. Your allurement appears benevolent, yet it’s all a snare, a pursuit of fools as the decay in character ensues.

You make me sick for you’re an insatiable foe, your hunger never dies. Your eyes travel the cosmos seeking devourees. Much to your delight, your journey is multi booked as malefactors are willing to submit.

You make me sick for fornicators worship you, as do murderers, thieves and liars alike. They’re conforming to your image, you’ve merchandise your craft well, you lay up cadavers enumerable.

You implore the world to apply for all are qualified for employ. Wages lamentable, a stipend of death. Resign yourself to live.

Am I really sick of you? That’s my profession. Yet my wickedness betrays my speech. I’ve played the Hypocrite again, loving what I should hate. My being is torn in two.

You’ve filled the whole earth as it groans in agony. Your DNA has made slaves of men. Inoculated all against righteousness, they now love the debauchery they practice.

You make me sick, your mission’s complete when the wicked die forever apart from God. You’re an enigma to some, a taboo of mention to most, you agree with Hell. What? What you’d say, you have iniquity for sell?

Who are you?

Written March 2, 2011