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.