To Hell
I sit alone in this my filthy cell.
Of past mistakes I still do dwell.
A life I stole, a debt I cannot pay.
I'll not forget till my dying day.
I see his face every night.
I close my eyes but I still have sight.
He begged for life, but I cut him down.
I slew this innocent, and in his tears I drown.
I'm dying now my lungs give out.
To hell I go I have no doubt.
The reaper comes to apply his scythe.
No one shall miss me or my wasted life.
The reaper stands in his hooded cowl.
Expressionless eyes are bearing down.
He cuts me deep and justice is served.
Forever in torment a punishment deserved.
Copyright © John Steward | Year Posted 2018
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