I need my advil. How do I live whole without it? The painful rod is not desired. The tremendous aches are callings of death; silence them with the easing solution. A needle of vaccine is needed to be injected but if a terminal end cannot be found, temporary relief is not minded. Come my little red circle of haven, find your calling of my mouth to execute your implications. Enter a misery to be its sole ray of light. Spread your elements and ease the hurt. Ice the scars to a cool rush of peace. Be the coolness to the burning and relieve me of this pain. Come now, your duty is calling. In you go, a little red circle of hope.