The snake

The snake behind me gives a hiss
It wasn’t supposed to be like this
I turned around to face the beast
My soul is his meal, his final feast

We stare at each other as time sets in the sky
Trying to kill each other and leave them to die
Both stubborn in our unwavering might
Get ready to watch one hell of a fight

We don’t realize that we’re actually one
Two souls fighting the sins we’ve done
I am the snake and the snake is me
The duality of man is hard to see 

The snake’s eyes are hypnotic and pure
His eyes tempt my spirit and try to lure
I reach for my knife to stab this foe
He is poised and ready to strike al-so

In the battle we soon are maimed
Both wounded and unfairly tamed
The final, raspy breath from my throat
Kills the snake and the story we wrote.


A poem | by Jason S. Sullivan, 08-02-19

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