The serpent is circling, silent and slow,
Patient and cunning, staying hidden down low,
Circling wide, with a smile full of charm,
Gently and softly, curling round one arm.
Mesmerizing; as the gaze is met,
Not revealing any sense of danger yet,
As the grip tightens ever so slight,
It sends a shiver that doesn’t seem quite right,
Softly the snake slithers, massaging down the spine,
The tail at the neck brings discomfort; but it’s fine.
Around the chest the circle is made,
The pressure is squeezing making breath fade,
How did the creature become so bold?
The warmth is gone consumed by cold.
Soon little is left, spirit is fading,
The soul that was strong and energy creating,
Pulls from the last ounce of strength and self-worth,
Breaks free from the snake, as it falls to the earth.
A hawk swiftly dives in high from above,
Soaring off with the serpent, and looking back with love.