Serpent
Slip, over moss and leaves,
Over the land that breathes,
I am the Serpent,
Thousands of lives spent,
Chasing you and chasing more,
Chasing my prey until I am beyond sore,
Clutching your insides,
Make you dread as the Serpent writhes,
Slaughtering infants,
Causing rants,
I am the Serpent,
From the bowels of HELL sent.
This poem is about:
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: