My Abyss

The pen has run dry
It which used to write gaily
Now rites words of sorrow
Words of unhappiness
 
The pen is not at fault
My hand has control
It is the problem
Writing of terrible sadness
 
My hand is not at fault
I am at fault
I do such things
Writing of them is a side-effect
 
A side-effect of sin
Of horrible time management
And poor will-power
How will I escape
 
The hole I've dug
Shear walls of wrongs
Of mistakes and sins
Of greed and lust
 
One hope remains
The light at the tar of my pit
He waits for me with open arms
But how do I get out?
 
The only thing I've accomplished
Is digging a deeper hole
The shovel is easier to use
Than to attempt to climb
 
I mount an atack on the wall
It falls upon me
I become compressed
The walls are heavy
 
Failure. I exist to fail.
The weight is too great
My breath leaves myself
I begin to suffocate
 
My suffocation complete
I die in my hell
My hell of mistakes and sin
Of self-destruction