Quake

in this maze of mass confusion.

I push myself the more

toward unknown limits,

To attain speeds that make

my stomach threat to heave.

Yet others fly by me

Like I were sopping wet.

I strive to find the energy

To keep me going on

And perhaps a suit of armor.

Protection,

From the barrage that's cast against me.

I need a weapon strong enough

to cast my own barrage.

I quiver and I shake,

I tremble as I quake.

Run Away! Run Away!

Then I fall into the fucking lava, and I Die!