Soft screams
subtly subdued.
Short sighs,
trembling thighs.
Silence breaker,
sincerity faker,
violent mood changer,
fearless danger engager.
Lucky muckraker,
salacious soul sucker
stalking vacant city streets
still saturated in neon and
echoes of sultry sweet-talkers
whose acidic sentiments stain
sidewalks leading to the mouth
of a solipsistic serpent.
"The point is...
there is no point..."
hisses the snake.
Such are the laments
of those swallowing themselves.
Great walls,
heart engraved stalls.
Sleepless nights,
neurotic fights.
Anxious cries,
swarms of fruit flies.
Dead friends,
logical bends.
Loving trends,
it all depends on what
our lonely serpent intends.
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