My End

Three monkeys of wicked, this paint on my wall. Each one of my mirrors, watching me fall. Back into something, true once planned before. With nothing to run to, I walk out the door. Step into darkness, last breath of the night. Exhale the foulness, blinded by light. Confused in this sorrow, confested in rest. Till judgement is borrowed, I'll scratch out my test. Inch out my six feet, one spoon at a time. Shovel, to shovel, to shovel, not hurt, Asleep forever, incaptured in the dirt...