Cycle of sin

First comes the sin, sucking me in
The cycle starts, back where I've been
A small mistake, or a decadent choice
Upon me, a burden foists

Then comes the conscience, kicking me in
Telling me I'm wrong (it's always so mean)
And following it the dawning realization
That my actions will bring along condemnation

And the misery will follow, breaking me in
Whispering that Christ is no longer my king
That I've lost His favor, and everything good
Upon my darkness, alone, I must brood

And then I'm convinced that further sin won't hurt
After all, how can i fall lower, now that I'm dirt?
And the cycle self perpetuates, it spins in a fury
Leading me, inevitably, away from His glory