The snake

Raindrops, I hear thy song,

The song of old and pain.

Blood, I smell thy scent,

Mixed with smoke and rain.

The soldier lay wounded,

His finger still bore the ring.

The death knell sounded,

To my deaf ears, it did sing.

I squatted outside, prayed,

God, feed my child once.

The youth lays there torn,

No dreams for him hence.

My presence, did he know?

My presence, does he call for?

Hands stretched, he groaned.

I waited, a snake, that hour.

Lost in the game, i was.

Strength in the mind, nought.

Toil in the fields aplenty,

To have slogged it, i ought.

The clouds had dried up now,

As empty as his veins.

I go in to get the prize,

Get my undeserved gains.

War had found its face,

As the moon shed its ray,

From these parts, no doubt

Forgive me brother, I pray.

His soul, the Battle took it,

His band, my battle took it.

Then the parchment did come,

A confession, a will, was it?

“For our dear comrade,

For his gallantry, a ring

Lives plenty he has saved,

We wish joy, it will bring.”

The snake, it still struck,

like the other on my child, did.

The ring sold, life was bought,

Life was sold, to the devil he bid.