Fire blast, fast.

I feel fantastic

When you’re down and out.

You act so spastic.

Unbelievable. I’m getting there fast.

A blast of cold air.  The land is vast.

I’ll ask you once again:

“Where’d you come from?”

Blisters and sweat.  Feel the beating sun.

Don’t run;

You’ll only get holes in your neck.

The desert heat is dry.  I know that

You’ll be back.  Come crawling.

Get disconnected.

Too late now, you’ve been infected.

Dissected, bisected.

Spliced.  Directed

To you, kid, as you get injected:

“Another lost soul has been collected.”