I know I'm falling,
quickly, quickly dripping dripping...
Leaking, lacking, losing...

All the sins that I've committed,
bodies piled up at my front door.
I can tell that Hell is welcoming,
calling; the home is quite enticing.

The failure getting worse,
the failing is failing;
life is completely scarce.
I'm leaving the world with many scars;
scathing, burning, burning, crashing, dying.

The skulls and feet- buried beneath one another,
like the ashes of the Holocaust.
The witnesses rare as daylight in a cave.

The flamed gates are creaking open,
rust catching in the forever red lust of evil.
The death of my deathly deeds awaken me,
chilling me, stating "you will now die,
and recede to deep depths of Hell,
while life above continues without you."
I realize that that my name is society,
and the I am a murderer readying for its
last, awaiting, final goodbye.