I talked to a somber corpse as distant as lone–Transparent, defiant, obstinate, drone

It wanders aimless, no future nor past–It’s given to whimsical, selfish, trespass

It said: “I glide through and live in the moment–I feed on blind choice, I scoff at opponents

I care not for laws, I write my own rules–I’m lowered to a statistical, criminal tool

I ask not for progress, I seek not a plan–Unspeakable action’s where I take my stand

I balk at responsible, conscientious living–I chalk up my devalues for devious misgivings

I trod on disorder, for my direct sculpture–And feast on destruction, as hungering vultures

A product of fallible, draught indiscretion–I’m given to lucre and pure insurrection

I set my example by questionable force–Unstoppable misdemeanors are my committed source

I’m prone to sowing the seeds of discord–It’s as wicked thoughtlessness is all I can afford

Entrenched in excessive felonious schemes–I leave little doubt I’m fit to redeem”

I spoke to this corpse, I’m seeking the truth–What leads this life downward to actions uncount?

What sends it a message for deeds of disdain–On drawn to a mental, emotional strain?

What makes it a product of ones detriment–What sets it apart as society’s excrement?

This corpse spoke, “Death speaks, I chose to align–The consequences turned out to be far from benign”

To put it: It’s hopeless, I cannot rehabilitate–The end has been set, I just will disintegrate.