Ouroboros
The snake that coiled asleep
Underneath the misbegotten
Earth unruffled agitated from
The vanguard of its slumber
Because his cold blood
Could never grow colder
And the scorching land
Could never get warmer
And the unselfishness
Could never be selfish
He shed his gossamer
And fragile skin to
Eviscerate the phantoms
Slithering with his dispositions
And super impositions
And then swallowed
The undraped suit
And the night was
A blood lusting
Carnal show
Where you blew the flute
To surrender and
Call it truce
He stuck out his tongue
Forked and rived
And palmed the warmth
Truant in the airwaves
And the arid coldness
Beckon the void chance
Of subsisting yonder
The scorching land
So his blood froze
Congealed with the
Chamber of fire
He held somewhere
In his labyrinthine frame
He developed a fancy
In eating his skin
And soon he shall
Eat his rattling tail
But never would he
Cave out again
To face the devoid
Chance of getting
To where he can live
For himself
And while she gets jealous
And while he gets jealous
He shall crawl away
Far from the dancing flames
Where his skin is charred
Only to molt him
Into nakedness
And leave him there
Eating his lost
And unwanted chances
To settle it fair.
It is an ouroboros
Eternally ensconced
Into the lattices of
The void.
poem by Norman Santos
Added by Poetry Lover
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