Fallen

Woe is my calling, tattooed in my throat
In ink kissed with the blood of the rotten
Black is too light a color for my disposition

Agony is a good emotion for those around me
The wicked few that have called me brother and friend
The wretched few that saw some seed un-germinated
Light in my pain

I am the anger, the sainted, knightly
Anger in words and actions that shock and awe
I am that anger that civilized folk
Push to the depths of their personal abyss
And pray never to see the light of cultured minds

I am the hammer that drives the nail in my coffin
Everyday I drive them deeper
I am a charcoal smoked falsehood
A mirror of dated times
With ethics that don’t apply

Broken are my decisions
Broken are all the promises lied
Broken are my thoughts
Broken is my body

I am condemned to hell
Awaiting my arrival with room prepared
Sheets turned down
A nice mint on my pillow.