Serpent

By Shreya Sharma

I swear whatever I write will not be a lie. But at the same time remember that I'm a liar. I was not familiar with hiding, Learnt the habit since all you did was caring.

I was a bank of secrets for others; You knew most of them, which had me bothered. May I be trapped inside a box made of mirror; I would hear acquaintance's blubber.

For I cannot cry. Even when alone not a single tear leaves my eye. Most of us wear a mask, Assigned by our demons to complete tasks. Spirits plan my doom. Friend or foe? Woe was and will remain me.

Snakes used to be symbols for both rebirth and prudence; We turned them into falsity and fakeness. I have regrets. I had done a sacrifice. People were obsessed with my presence; Hate boiled in me, all I could do was manipulation.

This endless maze of madness, Brought nothing good but loneliness. Thoughts remain frozen for now; I had met and overthrown Satan.

Never knew things would turn this way,

Greed and anger made my blood their prey.

Sudden death is not what I seek,

Painful ones I have faced and fancy.

By Shreya Sharma