In the shadow of the serpent
where only the Jalla trees do grow
a lonely old man was sitting
just there, under the most ancient Jalla tree

He beckoned for me to come over
waving his frail and brittle hands
so with a wave I confirmed our meeting
then crossed the desert sands

He whispered that he wanted to talk to me
I shook my head in panic
I did plead with him, beseeched him
not in the shadow of the serpent

He would not comply
he wanted to tell why he was here
he said he knew me well
but his pleas fell on deaf ears

None must say my true name
in the shadow of the serpent


By Christos Andreas Kourtis aka NeonSolaris