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by Ronald Ferguson © 2022

The snake, it is a noble creature,
With ev'ry movement, ev'ry feature,
Alive and gleaming, lying patiently
On the warming, moistured sand.

Instant alert, it senses around,
Detecting all movement on the ground;
Eyes like pills and sharply penetrating;
Staring through the humid air

They say, "Simply slithering, slimy
You are, and your habits are grimy."
Your smooth-groomed body of interlocked scales
Is glossy and delicate.

Indeed, what a revealing story
To recognise your former glory.
The smooth, rhythmic momentum of beauty,
Suggests what you may have been.

But we know what you were, wicked snake.
To all forms of decency, a fake.
For your origins reach right to the past,
In Eden's garden, you were.

Deceptive, dishonest go-between
You and Satan, unclean and obscene,
But not to Eve did you appear that way;
Kind and trustworthy you seemed.

Glorious creature there, in her eyes;
You gained her trust with your wicked guise.
You allowed yourself to be Satan's voice,
And guilty of corruption.

For that, the curse of God fell on you,
'Cause you were part of a wicked coup.
From your upright stance, on your belly GO!
Evil gains its recompense.

Cunning snake, inglorious in defeat,
But the great Serpent still claims his seat.
He controls iniquity in the world,
Until God's set time arrives.

That dragon serpent-snake will receive
From God, absolutely no reprieve,
But into the lake of fire, will be cast
In eternal punishment.

Copyright reserved Metre = 9-9-10-7 Rhyme = AABC

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