Sinful Living

Is there substance
Much like sugar material
That we can pour in our darkest of
Black coffee
(what a sin)
To turn even more bitter?
That astringent taste
(what a sin)
It gives soothing relief
Just like the sharpest of razors
You take to your wrist
(what a sin)
And drag
(oh –what a sin)
Watching the wine drip
And pour
From your blue veins
(what a sin)
We're dead and damned
In this perverse, cruel world
As we search
How to invade the other planets
In the universe
Stealing, killing
Treating it without consequence
(what a sin)
All across the oceans and clouds
Stomping on the living
Sleeping on the dead
(what sins)
Doesn't cover us in miasma
'why should it?'
In your minds you say
(what a sin)
Just to escape the regular transgressions
We alter ourselves
Inside and out
Bleeding and coughing smoke until we're numb
Ashes to dust
Dust to air
We sin and sin and sin