SIX SHEETS TO THE WIND 2

Six Sheets to the wind,
and still I'm off still running.
The hounds at my heels
call none other than myself their master,
or perhaps (more accurately), -their owner.
Acting on orders at the behest of my conscience,
they nip at my heels' trails
and chase me towards hell
in an attempt to make me pay for my sins.
But more years and more towns and more roads
under my belt
and still I'm left running, empty.
The hollow feelng residing inside my chest hasn't ceased and departed.
I still can't stop blaming myself as I edge my way to hell,
looking for some kind of absolution
to set me free from my guilt,.
I still traverse a mortal earth
with immortal guilt,
 a repentant sinner,
running six sheets to the wind.

Copyright ©2009 Ashi Shadow - 12/05/04 was original.
* is there a verb for when Satan lets souls go? Is it just release?
Wanted another word instead of absolution.
"Myself" instead of "My guilt" ?
Note: when I say "Six Sheets to the wind" in my poems I actually mean speeding off to nowhere, a tramp MIA.