My eyes can no longer stay closed due to the smell
of death that has gone past my nasal cavity and is burning
my dry eyes with its foul stench of hot seared flesh.
This is the eternal sent for the damned like myself, thoughts
who decided that life was just too much so they slit there wrist
or just blow there brains all over the local Wal-Mart hunting counter.
Demons enjoy their little gift that their father promised them,
So instead of pain for them, they get an eternity of pleasure,
And if that pleasure just so happens to be a hot poker through my
Ass for 50 years, well than fuck me.