Last night, my back was aching a lot (fever), so I tried putting on some muscle relaxant thingy, but all it did was BURN. So while I was writhing in agony (no lah, it didn't hurt that much, it subsided after a few minutes), I thought, "What is pain, exactly?" People with bullet wounds, those who are going to die due to some severe disease, they feel nothing but pain. What are those last moments like to them? Hence this poem. No, ma, I am not turning emo.

That's all I feel
Every pore in my body -
on fire.
A inferno withing me.
I cannot move -
I am helpless.
I can only wait for it to consume me.
Make it go away -
somebody help me!
There is NOTHING I can do!
Everything is
out of reach,
out of control,
out of comprehension.
All I can see, feel and hear -
is Pain.
A volcano.
No, a thousand volcanoes.
That's what it is.
Tens of thousands of raging volcanoes -
all here in my chest.
I am done for.
I do not remember anything -
All I know, is Pain!
Make it go away,
I'll do anything -
just make it go away.

Wadya think? I was really bored, this isn't the kind of stuff I'd usually write, but it was 2.30 in the morning, I couldn't go to sleep, so I started doing random stuff - writing, listnening to music, reading, blah blah blah.


A Quote

"Dream as if you'll live forever, live as though you'll die today"
- James Dean