212 °F

Throbbing pains cover my nerves
Once it starts it never ends
It’s hard to breathe when you push me
Not enough?
You strangle without using hands
Bled rivers
Barely shed
Cloud up our faith.
Walking Death
Hurts deeply
I’ll bring the truth to light by tonight.
Burn me down with your sharp tongue
I doubt whether you know.
You played God’s role lest you leave exposed.
Locked inside a puppet show.
Audience ready? Take a look.
If there’s a hitch, don’t wait for me.