Under Blackened Skies

Born of lust and passion dark
The serpent's need is one.
To feed upon the weakened heart
Of men, whose love has gone.

Slither now, my serpent friend
Through undulating hills,
In search of prey to feast upon,
To have thy belly filled.

With broken tongue a hiss does sound
As seer becomes the seen,
No creaking bones or footsteps heard
Just movement, most serene.

With matchless grace it closes in,
Under blackened skies,
To feed on fear, most insecure,
As sweet temptations rise.

No shadow does the serpent make
To give away the plan;
And as those jaws do open up
It underestimates the man.

The slimy jaws are ripped apart
The wretched creature dead.
Under blackened skies, it lies in state,
The path, now clear ahead.

He marches on, this cadaver's foe
Until the sky shows blue
No more succumbed to fear or pain
This warrior, so true.

He stands for good, and all that's fair
When all around is black -
And though he stands all but alone
His love will soon come back.

 

Copyright © Victoria Preston, 2009
All Rights Reserved