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Worn out,

dead,

sold your soul for a check,

now you have to stay in bed 

There is no sunshine,

only dark clouds over your head,

rains everyday,

no getting away

The slow rot

and descension into madness,

living on the edge of the abyss,

waiting to jump off the cliff

Walk the plank,

black spot,

marked for death,

fed to the crocodiles,

River runs red,

murky waters of violence,

there they toss their dead

and the living who do not consent 

Slowly being mummified,

inside out,

dogs stand by guarding your tombstone 

for your departure into the underworld 

You exist as dead

awaiting hell

and the day of judgement

having chosen the creature over the creature,

The dogs guard your grave,

so when you are buried they can dig up your rotten corpse

and tear it to pieces

 
You are their food,

you are a soul 

to be devoured

to be killed