Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
sylkie-smoothiePoems
A ring of futility The patience game is not for the faint heart Watching them tear your confidence apart, Pulling the flesh from your backbone Creaks give way to breaking Shattering of nerves Plucking away the feathers of hope Bare naked and goosepimpled The carvery lays waiting An unceremonious carving Beligerant twisted barbs of lies They think they have power They think the can destroy me I almost thought they could too, But as they say reputation is king And mine speaks flesh to my bones I pick the scales off one by one Their pious deception no match for my holy inception A twisted fork tongue lays deep in its own rotted flesh How the snakehole swallows it's own creator Writhing in contorted panic as it's own truth flashes in its eyes I may well be torn down every shred of pride Only to rise a new and free from their serpentry While they taste the bitter poison in their own sad tales They never had real faith And mine was never afraid of being tested They forgot the sage old saying Death trampling on death Arise Tabitha and sin is no more And nor is the serpent whom devours its self.
0
Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 5:58 AM UTC
The Serpent Devours Itself
A ring of futility The patience game is not for the faint heart Watching them tear your confidence apart, Pulling the flesh from your backbone Creaks give way to breaking Shattering of nerves Plucking away the feathers of hope Bare naked and goosepimpled The carvery lays waiting An unceremonious carving Beligerant twisted barbs of lies They think they have power They think the can destroy me I almost thought they could too, But as they say reputation is king And mine speaks flesh to my bones I pick the scales off one by one Their pious deception no match for my holy inception A twisted fork tongue lays deep in its own rotted flesh How the snakehole swallows it's own creator Writhing in contorted panic as it's own truth flashes in its eyes I may well be torn down every shred of pride Only to rise a new and free from their serpentry While they taste the bitter poison in their own sad tales They never had real faith And mine was never afraid of being tested They forgot the sage old saying Death trampling on death Arise Tabitha and sin is no more And nor is the serpent whom devours its self.
#faith#confidence#pride#phoenix#fight#persecution#spiritual#higherself#badboss
sylkie-smoothie
Written by
sylkie-smoothie
Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 5:58 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem