Winds of Treachery

You are dirty; you are scarred.
Rubbish I would rightfully discard.
Disgusting in morals,
Your conduct abhorrent;
A perfect fit in a sinners' paradise.
Blown about by winds,
And witnessing distorted souls
Intertwine and copulate.
Relentless are the winds of the storm,
Which provide no hope for you to catch your breath.
Whipped around will be you life's fervor.
Your pain will be sheer;
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here.