The Dead Heat

I melted in the dead heat
To a pool of skin and sweat,
No wind blowing a warning
Of the coming of Hot Death.

I melted in the dead heat
On my way to work a day,
Hot Death on my trail
As I walked the stony way.

I melted in the dead heat
And tried not to let it kill,
The Hot Death threatening
To spread the heat wave still.

I melted in the dead heat
Through water and through clothes,
With no protection from Hot Death
Who victimises most.

I melted in the dead heat
As Hot Death took a stroll,
This city not quite on his route,
Yet still he took his toll.

I melted in the dead heat
To a nothingness on the ground,
So take a warning to run away
From where Hot Death is found.

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About Paul Carroll

Paul Carroll is a writer, born, raised and still living in Dublin. By day he's a student and bookseller, by night he writes fiction and uses social media.
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