To the Serpent!

Living by the daylight of lecherous dreams
The serpent tried not to hiss. Yet its fang, all pronged
And dripped in convenient sarcasms on the epiphany
Of being raised a fortunate parasite, with unsound claims,
The serpent, hissed again, in its favourite tune
Finding an easy target for its fangs, in my walking feet!
But I wouldn’t die in haste; for dying,
It’s all in my blood, ever since I was borne an eclipsed soul
With a body wrought from promiscuous coffins.
I wouldn’t die; no matter how ruthless the jeers are
For I have lived weaning this body
With venoms milked from the agony of living!