The Seductress Poem by Jonathan H. Scott

The hour is nigh, all has come to this:
To give one's soul to eternal bliss;
Yet, kiss no more, only tears to weep
And face the truth with no time to keep.

Beyond this place, to the darkest void,
Now all you've built is, alas, destroyed—
Ruined and sacked as you drift in sleep,
Never to have your promises keep.

Done is now done—there is no return;
Into the depths, your heart she will spurn.
In Love's own grasp, you all will forsake—
That is the hour your soul she will take.