PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

In swift and sure motion,

the deadly viper coils its way

around my throat,

squeezing the pressure

harder and tighter

till my eyes are near bulging

and consciousness,

almost lost.



Fruitlessly, my arms flail

as panicked fingers attempt

to break its hold,

but the compression only builds,

while the viper, he only laughs

in mockery of my feeble try

to escape his clutch.



For a last good measure,

venemous fangs dig into

my flesh and the viper empties

his poisoned spit, deep within'

the tunnels of my veins.



Death's serpant has struck.

And dead,

I now lay.