Poison

I threw the dice, wishing for it to land on the vertically, I spoke complaints, hoping people understood it correctly. My words are sharp like a sword, only my weapon in hand, I cannot rest, I cannot yield, for I won't let it stand. An alien thing, it getting pus in your flesh, It turns into poison, unnoticed at its best. A tiny black scorpion kills the camel at the end, A small sting from the foot and its small venom rend.