A pile of death lay at my feet,
a sin each day that I repeat
their lifeless bodies gaze up at me,
a few still twitch, how cursed to be
my hands are stained with virgin blood,
I bash their skull, wince at the thud
when I snap their neck, I feel each crack,
if that doesn’t work, I just break their back
How could all life be sapped from death?
what I used to love, I seldom lust
a burden has become each breath
as I allow my mind to rust
I succumb to sloth, and gather dust
as I bask in my demise
sometimes, I wish I’d just combust
to end what I despise
When I close my eyes, what do I see?
Just the dead, staring back at me.