The underworld's punisher

[UnbornBuddha]

Snake oil apotheosis is the grossest of notions.
Apothecary patent doses are potent necrosis.
Lotions and liniments composed of cinnamon are sold as the potions
capable of granting devotional souls a motion of knowing all knowing.
A probing of your innermost heart desire to be an immortal moment
Forever spoken as a whisper as the one woven from no thing.
I compel you to pay attention to the cloaking of motives
hiding in between the promise of ending all emotional poisons.
Be careful when negotiating with unsocial bi polars
Especially the older ones whose only ode is thy owner.
Posers who will sell their own mother to an ogre that hungers
Wolves who can be sensed apart because their malodor is stronger;
A fetid scent acquired through amorally leveraging their total grossing.
Processes that required morbidly and mortally severing the holy gnosis.
Behaviors that beckon the approaching of the gate serpents are throw in.
To murder the lowly is to bring about the torture of Olden-
Consequences that guarantee the emerging of no men
Due to the sullying of the life bringing water of Odin.
I remember when the wilted garden flowers were golden.
Thus, extinction prevailed over the incarnate of Nomads.
Parched they begin hallucinating with a manic laughter preprogrammed.
Without strength their unable to roam the uncharted of homelands.
Enchanted by psychosomatic omens-
they begin to barter their daughters proceeding to massacre their own kin.
Finally ending with the cursing of the mandala of the king.
I'm watching the horrors I'm loathing be done, an unfortunate fortune we've molded.
Poachers who've frozen the kidneys of children to exploit an exploding market
In order to get the best quoted bargain. Death their only pardon.
All this talk of wisdom and yet I still haven't lost my illness.
I can't find the root of what haunts my prism.
Ironically pain has numbed my feelings. I long to be christened.
Every plant stalk does differ, but why is the root so implanted in my liver.
Cancer a killer capable of pulling the lever that shatters any hero.
Hopelessness makes one wish for inert matter to hear out
Our pleads for it to implode and return back to before zero.
Lores and mythos draws the psychos out to guard their idols.
Mere amoebas who believe their beloved fortress is vital.
A far fetch cycle elucidated by the Gods of vikings.
My limbs have been crushed when I was a hardened biker
My heart was softened when an accident startled my nerves.
Bursting the terse armor that straddled my heart
My ivory tower collapsed crashing to earth.
It seems I was strangled by the curtains upstairs
All that I cared for became like a virgin I share
Purging her lairs due to the yearning that stirred.
Karma scythes you, citing you a title of burden I wear.
The stories I share are from my own syllabus.
If I had syphilis I'll gladly tell of it when I become well from it
Discovering the wealth in it, the best sedative medicine to its hellishness.
A sickened minion who discovered a meditative medium to health's benefits
Even within the festering myriad of manifest malignant malevolence testing us.
Disaster has made a resilient miscreant who wields the crest of Gilgamesh
Babylon's only civilian to vigorously still impress all real inquisitive literates.
Those inconsiderate of others willingly let the the devil steal their breath.
For the devious I missed I'll get you next time I stamp and seal the print.

Yours truly- King Yama.

[Certain]

On my first read of this very dense verse, it seemed like it was running in circles to me. There were cycles of different reference points, mostly steeped in religion, but the point seemed to be pretty redundant. On further, closer reads, though, that feeling went away. But I'll explain more as I break it down.

Snake oil apotheosis is the grossest of notions.

The juxtaposition of "apotheosis" andn "grossest," two words that rhyme but speak to very different audiences, was a bit strange, particularly in the first line. But upon reading the entire verse, this line pretty much sums up both your writing style, which swaps between heavy vocabulary and strange simplicity, and your theme of the verse. I'm not sure that a verse like this should start out with such a defining statement, but it doesn't fail.

Apothecary patent doses are potent necrosis.
Lotions and liniments composed of cinnamon are sold as the potions
capable of granting devotional souls a motion of knowing all knowing.
A probing of your innermost heart desire to be an immortal moment
Forever spoken as a whisper as the one woven from no thing.

There are a few grammatical and idiomatic issues here that also get found throughout this verse. Is it possible that English is your second language? The words have meanings but aren't used in the most natural order. The standouts are "heart desire" (which would normally be "heart's"), the lack of a verb in the final couplet and the "no thing." But the rhyming here is very strong, and I suppose the "no thing" could be excused as a slight force.

I compel you to pay attention to the cloaking of motives
hiding in between the promise of ending all emotional poisons.
Be careful when negotiating with unsocial bi polars
Especially the older ones whose only ode is thy owner.
Posers who will sell their own mother to an ogre that hungers
Wolves who can be sensed apart because their malodor is stronger;

I really liked how directly you spoke to the audience here. This verse essentially serves as a sermon, and here the sermon takes its roots and speaks out to the people. It's a bit archaic in its deliverance, but I think works for your point and the content.

A fetid scent acquired through amorally leveraging their total grossing.
Processes that required morbidly and mortally severing the holy gnosis.
Behaviors that beckon the approaching of the gate serpents are throw in.
To murder the lowly is to bring about the torture of Olden-
Consequences that guarantee the emerging of no men
Due to the sullying of the life bringing water of Odin.

The writing in the first three lines felt very staccato, with every line sort of needing to be completed, with a pause, before moving on to the next. Smoothing out the stream of ideas and writing would help with a more natural read. A big part of the issue is the structural integrity of the lines. You don't use verbs and complete sentences often, and those first three lines are sort of stand-alone clauses, almost like a list. But the reason I quoted these six lines together is because I thought you did a much better job in the next three lines, which were interlocked. That read smoother. I don't know much about Norse mythology, which hurt me throughout this verse. But I liked that.

I remember when the wilted garden flowers were golden.
Thus, extinction prevailed over the incarnate of Nomads.
Parched they begin hallucinating with a manic laughter preprogrammed.
Without strength their unable to roam the uncharted of homelands.
Enchanted by psychosomatic omens-
they begin to barter their daughters proceeding to massacre their own kin.
Finally ending with the cursing of the mandala of the king.

This easily was my favorite part of the verse. Here, you came across as confident and fluid, an old griot spinning a tale for anyone who would listen about the start of time. I sort of think this piece wouldn't lose much if it started here.

I'm watching the horrors I'm loathing be done, an unfortunate fortune we've molded.
Poachers who've frozen the kidneys of children to exploit an exploding market
In order to get the best quoted bargain. Death their only pardon.
All this talk of wisdom and yet I still haven't lost my illness.
I can't find the root of what haunts my prism.
Ironically pain has numbed my feelings. I long to be christened.
Every plant stalk does differ, but why is the root so implanted in my liver.
Cancer a killer capable of pulling the lever that shatters any hero.
Hopelessness makes one wish for inert matter to hear out
Our pleads for it to implode and return back to before zero.

Further building off the identity you formed in the section I previously quoted, here you started speaking from a more legitimate form of the first-person, giving your narrator a backstory and identity. There was some clumsy phrasing in here, such as "haven't lost my illness" and "return back to before zero." But this was solid.

Lores and mythos draws the psychos out to guard their idols.
Mere amoebas who believe their beloved fortress is vital.
A far fetch cycle elucidated by the Gods of vikings.

You seemed to step back into your earlier-verse mode here, but I don't mean that in a bad way. This was a thought-provoking segment.

My limbs have been crushed when I was a hardened biker
My heart was softened when an accident startled my nerves.
Bursting the terse armor that straddled my heart
My ivory tower collapsed crashing to earth.
It seems I was strangled by the curtains upstairs
All that I cared for became like a virgin I share
Purging her lairs due to the yearning that stirred.

The transition from last segment to this was less than ideal, but this got you back on the track of building your character. Better grammar could help smooth things out. "My limbs were crushed when," rather than "have been" which is perfect progressive tense and awkward here. "Lores and mythos" should have received a singular verb in the previous quote.

Karma scythes you, citing you a title of burden I wear.
The stories I share are from my own syllabus.
If I had syphilis I'll gladly tell of it when I become well from it
Discovering the wealth in it, the best sedative medicine to its hellishness.
A sickened minion who discovered a meditative medium to health's benefits
Even within the festering myriad of manifest malignant malevolence testing us.

You did a good job bringing this back to the healing powers mentioned so prominently early on that had been a bit abandoned.

Disaster has made a resilient miscreant who wields the crest of Gilgamesh
Babylon's only civilian to vigorously still impress all real inquisitive literates.
Those inconsiderate of others willingly let the the devil steal their breath.
For the devious I missed I'll get you next time I stamp and seal the print.

"The saga continues ..." This ending was OK, though it definitely didn't steal the show.

Yours truly- King Yama.

I don't know much about him. I'll look him up.

Thanks for the verse and the votes.