"Earth Died Screaming" by Tom Waits.

Prophets and crowds—once they found each other—amounted to a kind of human critical mass. Preachers took John’s reveries as the precise blueprints for a reconstruction of the world they lived in. They identified themselves as the martyrs, the witnesses whose sufferings on behalf of truth would realize the last phase of God’s plan. The innocent blood that they lost sanctified them. More frightening, the guilty blood they shed, that of God’s enemies, did the same. Thus the ruthless revolutionary, that terrifying and characteristic figure of modern times, was born. The “urban masses” became his natural constituency, his faithful, long-suffering, ineffective army, and—on the rare occasions when he was lucky enough, and those around him unlucky enough, that he took power—his wretchedly exploited subjects. — “The Millennia-Old History of the Apocalypse" by Anthony Grafton (The New Republic).

Rapture ideology, I believe, is a product of anxiety about death. It’s a way of coping with the fear of death by denying its inevitability, inventing a way that some special few of us will get to escape it.

“Can you imagine, Rafe? … Jesus coming back to get us before we die!”

— “'Apocalyptabuse' and funny stories about death” by Fred Clark (Slacktivist).

"Rise of the Planet of the Apes" ended with the spread of a virus that kills humans while making apes smarter. Remarkably, this felt less like an apocalypse than a fresh start. Humans in that film, with the possible exception of James Franco, are portrayed as sadistic, slippery, and selfish, while apes are compassionate, candid, and cooperative. Humans manipulate nature for their own ends, while apes live in harmony with it. I can’t think of any other film where you feel like cheering when another species takes over the world. By comparison with the famous conclusion of the original "Planet of the Apes," with Charlton Heston venting his anger at the remains of the Statue of Liberty, the ending of "Rise" is not so much “Damn you!” as “Damn, you!” as the audience cheers on our successors to the top of the food chain.

"Dawn of the Planet of the Apes" does its predecessor one better by asking us actually to think through the moral and philosophical implications of a post-human world. Rise offers an escape valve for human excesses that evades broader questions of culpability, while Dawn suggests that our limitations as a species are not so easily evaded. The central moral revelation of "Dawn" comes when Caesar realizes that his former belief that apes were better than humans was false, and that the similarities between the species are as important as the differences. This revelation is actually a much deeper one than the hackneyed “Can’t we all just get along” premise, since "Dawn" is honest enough to recognize that mutual understanding will inevitably exist alongside mutual loathing.

— “Apes vs. Zombies: New Skin for the Old Apocalypse in Dawn of the Planet of the Apesby Jed Mayer (IndieWire).

As It Is in Heaven, a soon-to-be-released movie about a young man who inherits an apocalyptic cult from his father. This one looks good, too.