The Serpent’s Coil
I drew the mark with broken glass,
A circle scorched in withered grass.
No plea for gods, no need for grace.
Just shadow called to take its place.
It came not loud, but soft and still,
A whisper sliding down the will.
Its voice was mine, yet deeper toned.
A truth I feared, but never owned.
I won’t consume, it swore with glee,
I’ll only show what’s truly thee.
So coil by coil, it climbed inside.
No force, no scream, no need to hide.
It offered power, sharp and sweet,
A kingdom built beneath my feet.
And in return, it asked no gold.
Just every lie I ever told.
Now I wear it, calm and proud,
Its hiss the wind, its oath unbowed.
I am the voice beneath the skin.
The serpent smiles. I let it in.
About the Creator
♿ V+ Marie381Uk
Poetry has lived in me since childhood.
Ink spills the feelings words fear to say.
My poems heal, some haunt, all are pieces of me.
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