Grand Finale

I concur, this is in fact, my death bed. Petrified glass of a stained chapel, the eyes of the saint's a hellish red. My coffin sits atop a corpse or two, the blitz of blood I had wandered through. The skull had split and ruptured my heart, leaving me alive, to feel the dead. Without a divine grace, a sanction or chance, I'm left alone in this cosmic dance. Time be but, a grasp upon reality. But the truth be nothing more than due fatality. Kill me now, kill me forever. For the pain alone, I cannot endeavor.