My conscience

Scrabbling for purchase in this barren wasteland  
Something to hang onto so it wont
leave me void of direction  
Becoming sand slipping fleetingly almost  
Effortlessly through my fingers  
Beads of panic dot my brow,  
My body shudders with the exertion  
That carrying this mask of
content demands
 
My conscience has turned against me
brandishing its noble  
Sword saluting to the devils on my shoulders  
Having already rid me of the halo  
Commanding me to writhe along this
path of self destruction  
The better to see you, it said  
I always knew you liked the attention  
That pain supposedly gave you
  
So let Gabriel glare at you while
the angels you know well  
Sob into their dulling feathers  
Even from down here you still
cause distress, it said  
I turn to my conscience and
throw myself on its sword  
Better to be in fire than
not in light at all.