Skin scorched to red-violet-black,
Pain subsides, and then, with fury, flares back,
Turning ash-grey-silvery-white, at the edges like paper or wood,
Maybe you'd end my pain if you could,
Heart blackening, burnt, crumbling like rotting skin,
Flesh-layer of burning bone is paper thin,
Would you kill me if I asked you to?
And is your too-quick reassurance true?