Two serpents in one cradle,
ingest each other’s poison.
Members of a vicious clique.
Blood creeps till the horizon.
I lurk behind the shadows,
searching for venom droplets.
To gulp and hold them like the jay,
as writ in ancient couplets.
The venom singes feathers,
soft as the foamy dew.
The venom yearns to infect me,
make me a serpent too.
But now I see serpent, but one,
writhing in painful glee.
Nibbling its own rattled tail.
Perhaps its him, or me…
Too afraid that the soul escapes,
it holds on to its tail.
Oblivious to blood and broken skin,
own fangs dug deep in scales,
Come crush it with your studded heel.
Salvation from swallowing own form.
And pray it gets less vaporous love,
unlike its present love forlorn.
Demystify this tale for me,
gather the unfurled clouds,
Tell me if I’m human or snake,
or death ensconced in shrouds.
I used to drink nectar of rain,
slurp up the milk of life.
Cull out the laughter from the tears,
and harmony from strife.
I beg for solitary refuge,
from vicissitudes of earth,
Its lashing storms, its dusty days,
its sorrows and its mirth.
Yet misery strokes its nasty chin,
in sacrilegious joy,
Says I will not on my own terms,
from here bid my goodbyes.
O rip my stomach with a knife,
or scorch me with a cinder.
Impale me with a jagged rock,
until my face is tender.
To such an end of agony,
I bestow my next birth,
And hope that i beget this time,
no lack of love, no dearth.
Scribbles in Grey 