Song of the Damned

And in this

lonely, dusty ruin

I count the coins

comprising

the price

of my perdition.

 

I have strangled

my conscience,

and opened

my accounts.

 

An easy life

in uneasy trade

for a diseased soul

that screams

and cries

in the silence.

 

I watch it

fall away.

I will be

troubled no more

as it sleeps.

 

And see

the teardrops

spray from my lips

as I whistle

and smile,

eternally

dying.