Spikes of gelatinous saliva,
Raining down softly and passionately onto my sapless head
Convincing me tt all that I'm gonna receive are featherweight
snowflakes,
And a drizzle of blood can be my dessert.
Never minding the loss of appetite I may have,
Dual crass is all that I've ever owned....
If that wasn't the case, I'd have turned my sorrow into strength,
Still, the viper's froth pours down my head,
Descends down my whole body with commendable slyness.

Push the vigor of my adrenaline to its peak,
Do away with this
excruciating pain,
As the basilisk's drool cuts across every good thing I may...