It’s a beautiful lie, it’s a perfect denial. A deception that has attained maturity. It has gone through all the phases and made all the stops. It has been analyzed, revised, tried and tested. It has been carefully cooked and matured, like smooth whiskey or fine wine. It has it all, all that constitutes that which is believable. You go through it and can’t help but be swayed. You are halfway through it and have already thrown your weight behind it. It looks like exactly what the masses need. It is as though God answered this prayer personally; He didn’t send an angel, He gave this His personal attention.
It is nothing more than a statement but feels like a sacred creed; as though a heavenly being manifested to you during your hour of consecration and handed you a scroll, sealed by fire and blood, with this inscription on it. It is nothing short of heavenly. This must be how prophets feel when they have received from God. It is exhilarating yet terrifying. The word burns in your gut, like fire shut up in your bones, probing your tongue and intimidating your cords; it wants out. Everyone must hear this. Someone tell the pope, there is a new messenger in town.
With it, you believe that your heart cannot be broken and your expectations will not be cut short. It is a statement of commitment and a promise of truth that cannot be repented of. It is so real to you that you are convinced that anyone who knows what is good for them should subscribe to it. It will change their lives and spice up their existence. They will cease to just merely be, but will do so with a bang.
If only. If only someone had stopped me. If only someone had spoken sense into me; back when I could listen. For now the deception has completed its work, and I am completely ensnared. I cannot be saved now. Why is it that deception is so believable yet the truth so implausible? For I have lost all, I have forsaken all that is redeemable.
Someone run to my brethren, tell them of this impending doom, of this snake in the grass, this wolf in sheep’s clothing lest they end up like me. This beautiful lie, this perfect denial; it is an undoing, a curse worse than that of the Pandora’s Box. Warn them, implore them not to believe it, not to entertain it, or even listen to it. For hearkening to it is but a tragedy awaiting to happen.♠