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


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