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The Black Snake

The fire burns through my veins, as hollow fangs close in.
Unforgiving, no remorse as it stalks me day after day.
And when the night closes in, the insecurity is there again.
Walls are walls and doors are doors, and it can get through them all.
Physically or mentally it will always come through.
Always there, watching, waiting, ready for the moment to strike.
Tensed up, red eyes, hissing waiting for a pulse.
And when it closes in, it clamps down and splits the flesh.
Bringing on a crimson flow and injecting its own wrath.
Clear streams turn to blood, the sky turns red, trees burn.
Always an enemy, deceptive to the end.
And when you let your guard down, when you think it’s your friend.
It delivers the fatal blow and brings your fire to an end.
Cold as ice, hot as lava.
Omnipotent to the poor man with no defense.
And through it, even the strongest walls fall.
And men lay wounded and broken, after it’s gone.
It causes the man and woman to curse their God through and through.
It leads one into a false sense of security, tries to make them its friend.
And delivers the final blow, every time in the end.
The men strong enough to combat it, are better off next time.
But never is it a pleasant experience, as men walk down their paths.
Those that choose to combat it, find themselves better off and strengthened.
And next time it comes around, the fight keeps them going.
Adrenaline feels them, and though at first they may lose.
They keep the battle going till they’re standing on its head.
So as it hurts, through hurt it strengthens.
Or breaks the cowardly man, unable to face it.



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