Asking for privacy, a
green snake becomes deviant,
and turns lunatic.
Lunacy demands innovation―
like atavism, returning
to primitiveness.
The fear becomes
your enemy. Instinct develops
to kill, to slay.
Again a beheading, you
wash your hands
with the blood of a god.
And dedicate your
life to a goddess of bodypiercing
crime, soaring high.
-
Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: February 5th, 2019 19:43
- Category: Nature
- Views: 35
Offline)
Comments1
a great read. thanks for sharing
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.