It was the gaze
staring as if to dare mestopped me mid-step. How is it born in me
the itch to be afraid and a knack to kill.
I held it from my fear for some time, deliberating
and concluded nature teaches , empowering us
with free choice and potential growth
of wisdom that leads to a change of heart
in our evil action and a genuine desire
to be kind. Upon a closer look
I saw patches of dried blood on the green
scale. As our eyes crossed, it
tried to sneak away trailing
its helpless body, hissing, coiling. It needed
help. Only love and innocence
could see. I wished I could instantly dressed
the wound but I was afraid of colliding
with pain. It blended with the grass, dragged itself
more properly than a wounded man
to the unknown safety of beyond.
Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
Written on 2025-11-06 at 11:11
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
