The serpent of despair floats
like a promise in the light of the moon
Slithering across the landscape
of human feeling and emotion
Loud as the silent whisper
it slithers slowly up the spine
Quiet as an unheard scream
to hunt the recesses of the mind
Tangled in the cerebral vines
of reason and doubt
Devouring childhood innocence
it’s as if hope never existed
Confuse and diffuse,
the thief comes a’stealin’
How far can pain go
before it becomes healing?
©Feb, 15, 2010 ~ DBC, Duke of the Arctic
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