Willing To Be Liquidated

Sitting in the heat of 35 degrees C
I cannot concentrate, took a Myprodyl,
too two, took a Sinuclear capsule, took
another one, took Panado, took Migril

The heat makes my conscience flow away,
I am listening to the ringing of a million ci-
cada’s singing in my ears, too uncomfortable
to process officially blessed

Tightly held and caressed, officially listed
documents, surviving life is bad, I prefer
enjoying it but it is impossible, without a
window, the air-con set too hot

Even pouring water over my head brings short-
lived release before fever flares up again, if
pain-killers cannot succeed to delete the pain
I am willing to be liquidated

My arms aflame, my skin burning, we are soldiers
in the trenches, I will not quit my post although
this is hell on earth, I will join my colleagues
in this hell-hole

Until time to go home, I might die a mental death
sending forth poisonous ideas, succumbing to
toxic thoughts, but here I must stay
till the day I die…