aw to hell

good deeds,
tucked up into your belt,
take heed,
their killing people like you for pelts,
run fast,
the snow is beginning to melt,
run past,
the acid hot feelings you felt,
and as old days are burning,
skylines are turning,
the burgeoning buckets,
of bright light and heroes,
as dystopias reigns,
pull tight at your neck.