****** nose leaking onto wood floors,
Blue eyes sullen into a dull grey,
Bruises curl 'round with menace,
Bother him when he gets to Hell.

Smell the rot,
Hear the flies.
See the corpse,
Feel the cold vein.

Grand display of regret and guilt,
Garden on display above his plot,
Good on him for finding his home,
Getting back to the real world soon.

Smell the flowers,
Hear the trees,
See the gravestone,
Feel the icy grass.

Hell's not so bad when its yours,
He's left his throne and ****** off,
Heaven's never bothered to intervene,
Here's a toast to reforming the sinners.

Smell the brimstone,
Hear the fire,
See the lost souls,
Feel the humid air.

Forgetting seems easier these days,
For what else can you really do,
Fork inside your steak as you stare,
Funny how it's all so meaningless.

Smell the red meat,
Hear the dishware,
See the watery blood,
Feel the existential weight.

I'm not alone but it still stings,
Intermittently regressing inside,
Inside of an imploding star,
Internally dying once again.