Pages

Monday, August 26, 2013

Venom


Nobody really knows the truth anymore
It weaves and bends across our senses
Like a snake flexing its supple length 
Supplicating coils of half-truths ripple
To mesmerise and calm us into obedience
Stilling reasoning of minds to a torpor
As potent venom spits across thoughts
Without clarity thus folds away dissent
And they make playgrounds of our minds