Final Destination

...this is the end

I saw an angel slowly light a spliff,

puff until clouds cover his face,

and then lift hooded eyes,

to stare in unawareness.

That ain't no natural herb.

Not an epileptic but shakes like one.

Until he slumped, dumped, and

crumpled in his own vomit.

Death is eminent in this movie,

that's the Final Destination.

That ain't no natural herb.

Usually, after half an hour,

he half awakes looking eagerly

for the half of a stick he dropped

to finish his high off...

but not this time, he drowned,

his last breath was a mix of K²O.

That ain't no natural herb.

The prison dorm is quiet.

His immune system is silenced

with his cell surrounded by

a formation of antibodies

peeking in his room knowingly.

No stifled tears for the stiff corpse

because they knew that he knew,

that ain't no natural herb.

This was someone's angel

at some point in his life.

Before he gave up and gave in

to a wave in this grave pen

temporarily making the pain end.

Before he convinced himself

that he was just killing time...

but the time killed him.

...this is the end.