in that dark room
Of shadowed histories

the Snake smiles,
and raises a glass-
the Blood on his hands
dripping onto clean cloth.

the Sparrow watches on;
Caged in her own regret.
her face is a blank Mask.

the Fawn gazes across a
would-be bright future.
trees and grasses Glow
With promise and dreams.

THEY run the World.
the rest of -us- suffer through;
raised by Hope,
cut down by Snakes.