Upon my last breath

Desperation prickles the hairs on the back of my neck
Moments tick by filled with dismay, misery and regret
As my throat fills with bile my stomach drops out
I know I won’t see the next sun to this there is no doubt

Cynical slithering serpents mocking me, they get the best
Because I was to naive to hold my cards close to my chest
Now I lay contorted whimsically sealed in the vipers tomb
Writhing in pain, hysterically laughing as I feel encroaching doom

Reminiscing upon the seven suicidal sins of which I’ve surely committed
I mocked the devil to his face, got scarred, and immediately submitted
Life doesn’t forgive the misguided, in these last moments I know this to be true
The devil doesn’t care, he acts how he please and always… gets.. his. d.u.e….