The Sinners

Adorn her hair with broken twigs,
Crushed oh so heartlessly,
Woven to fit
Neatly upon
Her sorrowful, bleached-white skull.

Decorate her fleshy corpse
With an empty promise
And broken dreams;

Embellished,
Place a cross upon her chest,
And hold it close to her left breast...

Watch the forgotten skeleton burn
At the final sunset.

But hold your breath, dear;
Brace yourself,
For we will join her soon!

Blood will be shed as the final rays
Of fire disappear from the sky...

We are the sinners,
The prideful, the lustful,
The thieves, gluttons, the murderers;

Sinners.

We are the blasphemous,
Unforgiving, scorned,
Unloved, corrupted
Sinners.

Our demise,
(And our devise)
Is all but inevitable.