The Serpent’s Path
A place where no one should go
The Serpent’s Path
It moves in silence, beneath the stone.
A serpent vast, with endless skin.
Its breath is smoke, its eyes are coal.
Its teeth are sharp, with secret death.
The path it leaves, is carved in ruin.
The fields collapse, the rivers vanish.
The forests fall, the stars grow dim.
No step is safe, upon its trail.
It coils around, the heart of earth.
It drinks the fire, the core is dry.
Its body winds, through every shadow.
Its tongue is flame, its whisper curse.
And when it turns, the path is closed.
The world is trapped, within its coils.
The serpent waits, with endless hunger.
And none escape, its burning path
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About the Creator
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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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