Blindfolded,

You let the cryptic whispers

Of voices you cannot locate

Push you off the ledge.

Your feet land,

Unsteadily,

In the shallow pool

Of what feels like

Fluid water.

Regaining composure,

You begin to force

Your feet forth,

Pushing onwards,

Slowly at first,

Until your awkward limbs

Gain enough power to

Plow through the water,

Scattering it behind you.

The voices continue their chant,

Leading you onward.

And the water gets deeper.

And deeper.

You’re up to your knees

When you first smell the copper,

And the pool surrounding you

Slowly begins to coalesce

Into something thicker,

More menacing,

Than the innocent water

You barrelled through before.

Your calves burn

As you press through the liquid,

Thick like oil,

Coating your torso

With the grimy tinge

Of blood.

And as you realize this,

You hear the first crack

Muffled by the thickness of the blood

Underneath your foot.

A tree branch,

You tell yourself,

Although you have

Yet to hear

The peaceful,

Swift sway of leaves

Stirred by the same moaning,

Relentless wind

That has plagued you

Since the start of your trek.

More cracks, now,

Harder to ignore,

Especially when

You feel

Your fingertips

Collide

With an

Unmistakably

Un-wooden

Figure.

More and more of them

Surround your body,

Getting crushed under your feet and

Knocked sideways by your knees,

Battering and bruising your torso,

Filling your stomach with more dread

Than any cafeteria meat.

And then you hear yourself

Scream,

Because there’s no more  

Pretending,

You are death

And you are destruction

And you are crushing the bones

Of once-living creatures

Under your path.

And the voices hear your futile scream,

And they cackle wickedly,

And shove you along,

Because you are no longer,

In fact you never were,

Of your own free will.

You squirm desperately,

Wanting to escape,

To free yourself from this chaotic dirge,

But the rotten voices

Only wail louder

And push you forward

Into your whirlpool of filth and sin.

You finally feel the fire on your face,

Burning at your eyelids,

Daring you onwards.

The gleeful orange flames

Dance against the lids of your eyes,

Horrifying in their potential for

Unrestrained destruction.

You unwillingly open your eyes,

Because you know

You are at

Your final stop,

And you discover,

Your eyes are

No longer encumbered

By the scrappy cloth blindfold

That fell off long ago.

You realize now,

Or perhaps you had already known,

That you had continued,

Eyes closed,

Blindly,

Out of obedience, habit,

Compliance, fear,

Because you knew

You didn’t have the ability

To trust your eyes

To tell you the truth

Regardless.

Your eyes are open now,

And you see your surroundings,

As they truly appear,

As you’ve shaped them,

Ever since your birth in the shallow pool,

And you scream,

Wishing,

Futilely,

Fatally,

That you could close them again,

And flee from the land of the doomed.

Because now you see

The blind path

You have forged

To your immortal damnation.

“Welcome to Paradise,”

The devil sneers at you wickedly.