wp-1466281839293.jpg“It came his turn to beg —

The begging for the life

Is different from another Alms

`Tis Penury in Chief.

I scanned his narrow realm

I gave him leave to live

Lest Gratitude revive the snake

Though smuggled his reprieve.”

wp-1466281828655.jpg Emily Dickinson holding the power of life and death over a creature that scurries about the undergrowth unseen, unloved, hated and despised.

All creatures that are so thought of possess the characteristics of serpents; slithering about on bellies of ambition corrupted by power. Looking for self advancement, hiding in dark, narrow caverns of disguise; masks of deception and deceit; unknowable except to those who wear a similar face.

To allow a serpent to slide to sanctuary despite a reputation, dread and cruel, is a favour indeed. But best not to tarry awhile, in case the beast recovers it`s cold contemplation, turns and strikes at a saviour, gentle, kind, but considered weak.

Only the strong survive in a wilderness where there is no space for kindness in a frosty heart.


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