Survival

Through the leaves and past the trees,
the slithery snakes of Eden tease.
All burning red with hate and fire,
to kill the man, its pure desire.

When darkness falls it sets a trap,
and then it spots a lonely rat.
“Some easy prey” it seems to think,
soft skin and fur for fangs to sink.

All coiled and cold it’s poised to strike,
when out of the blue an arrow bites.
Not one, but two, then three, then four,
and up jumps the man with a mighty roar.

“This is my jungle you slithery fool”,
words forced to a mumble through warm bodied drool.
“I’ll take what I want, you’ll see that I can,
for I am the creator… I am… a man”.