Running fever
Sweltering room
Churning stomach
Aching intestine
Spurting everything out
Washing off its existence
Yet, that fear and twinge
Falling off that crevice
Procrastinating the action
Forced to believe the thoughts
Reducing the achievement
Nullifying the impact
Clearing the throat
Serving the words
Cutting the spleen
Pushing the thoughts
Defending once stance
Trying to move the pang
Nothing is easy
But it can be done
And it will be.
