throes of perdition

blind-folded and gagged, stood waiting with the whole world: my firing squad. at the edge of the world i'm faced out staring the sun right in the eye. vultures circle above, hyenas mocking the kill, excrement drooling down their chins. atop the cliffs i look down, into the starving hell-mouth, the rabid foam crashes hard on its teeth. their mouth's salivate, fantasizing my gruesome ending. this world looks down upon a man who can stand on his own two feet. as they're feeding their guns: "ready, aim" they say i'll live if i die for their cause. living under the rule of fellow cro-magnon fool, they fear who leads and will kill to stay still. without eating from their claws. life feels quite like hell should, but this hells so cold. pull another knife out, stick it with rest of them. when my back is full turn me around to face it. such melancholy, burning the stars from skies. as we melt, drowning inside their bloodied eyes. hope is ravaged, running from lacerations. sob so heavily, we choke, then we die