When your pincers hold me
and your elegant metasoma rise high in the air
it’s telson shines while the wave of death
it touch my skin – pain overran me.

Still you hold me after this deadly injection
can you feel my fear?
Venom run through my infected veins
can you feel my heart beat?
You ever wonder why yours sleep?

My temperature is rising
and I fear to move
my eyesight dwindle,
I want to close my eyes.
I see weird pictures flashing by
seconds are like hours
and I see dead flowers.

Air is getting rare
inside me there’s this rage
liquidity fills up my lungs
why none ever came to cure my soul-wounds?