Are we all snakes?
Til made, by our choice otherwise?
Does betrayal hold controls,
To a mind uncaring?

Instead of a forked tongue,
With poison meant to wring lungs;
The infected have detested
Thoughts and actions matching.

Conceal a soul,
Beneath a Satanist cloak;
Is all I think those
Shells are doing.

But with a flick of a finger,
A step of a foot,
Satan’s curse could be lifted!
Blowing away sinful soot.

Open an eye or two!
Search for a something,
Patient inside you.
And a snake’s soul will reap,

From your bodies without a peep.
Bells will ring!
Maybe angels will sing,
And you shall see the Lord’s blessed things.