My obituary is pre written.
I guess freewill wasn't the mission.
That's what happends when you end up in prison.
Could it be that I love the temptation?
It began since creation.
And it will lead to my damnation.
Who needs salvation?
Every action is my consequence.
I feel this to be true in my esophagus.
I am sorry mother I cannot be your little saint.
I am flawed.
And it doesn't matter.
I never want to change.
I hang on to the last words I say before there is no more.
I must go like dad did.
I hope you can understand.
Goodnight.