Snake sneaks, skulks, every soul
Since Adam’s infected; the purity
Of motives stained by dread disease; control
At best compromised, worst lost; parity
With God! the serpent’s pitch.
Papered behind every good deed, poison:
More than a slight tickle for fame, the itch
For stardom, status and recognition.
Sower of doubts scuttles
Flat and in cloud colored camo; confused,
Muddled abstractions sown; seed struggles
In weeds; the concreteness of crops refused.
Thrust to head a Heel; bruised,
In a slight shift the sleight of hand is bound
And blind men in binds find that they are loosed
And salvation for sinners can be found.
Gary Edward Geraci
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