Temples throb.
Ears burn red hot.
Myriad thoughts
Collide, coalesce and split.
Coalesce again.
A dark sand storm of doubts
Fear and panic brew
In the charred barrens.
Hands to my face.
Distant melancholy themes.
Overwhelmed.
Violent conceptions
Need release.
Red flows
Through graphite
At Fahrenheit 4-5-1.