Flames
Location
My throat stings and burns
For cold, my skin yearns
My feet start to melt
And intertwine into felt
My hands squeal off of my bones
Making awful howling tones
My face, beautiful, peels like yellow paint
Although I was never a saint
My wrists and ankles chained tight
My weight anchored to the floor
My bones start to char
Not up for a fight
I look through the flames to the door
Seething vulgar vapor in the furnace
The devil's dragon lingers
And lost spirits scream in earnest
Trying to grasp delicate fingers
My long, curly, beautiful, black hair
Turns to ashes
My eyes dart and dare
His eye scans and dashes
Mine are yellow from heat
Trembling and static
His are black from deceit
And yellow as a fear tactic
Through the flames, I see his horns
I smell its breath and taste its poison
I feel its scales, hardened like thorns
Its tail toys with the flames being coy son
It glares at me awaiting any command
From its master's heavy demand
Hoping for any blood to spill by its hand
My father's strong blood courses through my veins
My muscles receive my mother's will in order to stand
My life fades in and out to black
Holding by a thread of a crimson ribbon
Gradually burning from end to end
Dragging out death by the skin left on my back
I feel my weight start tippin'
My blood spills and pools
Boiling and curdling on the cold hard floor
My vision starts to bend
The dragon tries to sleep and coils
A few scattered bones reach for the light coming from under the black charred door