So soon

I'm a wicked soul, torn and old
scarred and burned, while I twist and turn on this charred alter
my repentance is my sentence for the nature of this business
is foul in spirit so queer isn't it that i would finally notice just how
cold my skin feels or how poisonous my words seem its all just a lucid dream even with my eyes open the tormented visions pour into sight drowning the light inducing nothing but fright day turns to night and i turn and run away I know i won't get away but when my bodies consumed i'll simple return to that room where i will meet the same doom and it always seems to repeat too soon i feel the jaws opening to consume i welcome the oblivion beyond because im simply a small drop in very big pond.