The Bringer of Death

I am the Bringer of Death.

Be careful to not get too close.

My skin is stitched with sulphur.

Toxic to the mind the more you breathe me in.

If you notice a cough, it's much too late.

For I am the Bringer of Death.

I am comforting, relaxing, as to not scare you to what's to come.

The more of me you have, the closer you are.

And just like most toxins, I'm addicting.

I'm hard to put down.

Because I am the Bringer of Death, and what I touch must go.

What follows my path, cleans my mess, vultures of those I prey on.

I am the Bringer of Death, and if you question that it's because it's working.

My tears are acidic, they are meant to burn those who wipe them away.

My tongue is a razor, my words meant to leave nearly invisible cuts as I slowly tear you apart.

Are you afraid?

No, why would you be, I'm here to guide you.

Because as the Bringer of Death, my emotions fuel the flame, each cremation goes quicker than the last.

Perhaps being the Bringer of Death,

explains why I'm so...

longer.