Signs Of Hell

There's always signs of hell.

Why is it always silence that provides my mind with rhymes to tell?

Guidance from insights on my writing are like wheels aligning.

It feels divine but it might be just the chills when I'm rhyming.

I'm right to be still, lightning can kill when you're flying.

The sun is shining and you might begin to feel a sudden itch to heal.

Someone summoned a witch in which to deal a sudden pinch that kills.

There's always thunder just before you're hit and killed.