Cursed (repost)

She, dark, sleek, beautiful,
vigilant, cautious, cold,
sensual,
silently slithering
through the brush
as if in a deep trance.
Listening with each fiver,
trusting nothing
and no one but her senses.
Alone,
always alone!

A heavy load  set
upon exquisite head
planted by fear,
hate, ignorance
an inescapable
inherited curse
to rid themselves of fault,
-she was forever damned
and vilified.

The dice were tossed,
her lot was cast
it could have been any other,
the monkey,
the tiger or the bat.
Perhaps because she never complained,
nor talked back
she made no sound.
But after years of silent pain
and cruel abuse,
she learned to Hiss at last.

They could not accuse her
of not ever having been in their skin,
for she had,
in this circle and cycle
we call life,
she had been all of them before
starting from the lowest of their kind,
a fish, a bird,
a ram so forth and so on…
till now
a most despised
yet wise snake
a most debased creature!
But at last she knew,
this life was her last time around
in this lowly plane called earth.

In her resides the light and wisdom of ages
acquired through many years
and lives of pain,
a light most refuse to accept in her.
Aware that she must recycle
all in this life-time
in her skin the knowing festers
perhaps the why she must shed her skin.

With profound intelligence and acute perception
each cell programed with vast knowledge
most can’t even dream of
experiences she can not reveal
and so she crawls alone,
unloved, despised
forever cursed by ignorance,
mythology, folklore..
the symbolic icon of a sign she never chose.
The representation of evil and sin
used to appease the minds
of those who cowardly chose not admit
their disobedience
but blame it all on her.

Cursed from Eden forevermore,
and cursed she’ll be, denied of love
no compassion left for her
feared, hated,
despised and misunderstood
banned from the pleasure
of a loving kiss
for in her kiss resides
the venom of death.

So take upon your head
the hate, the scorn
and live your karma
in this garden of souls
until your last day upon this earth,
where after this death, there will be
no more pain,
where after your last breath
from your current cold skin,
at last you’ll be set free.

 

©2013
(This is a poem in defense of the vilified creature,
it’s not meant to defend the fallen-angel this creature represents.)

Poem formerly titled “Cursed in the garden”
Revised in this month of May, in the year 2021.

 

 

 

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