Much
as daggers
flew their words
of praise and adulation
about very place and very people
whose smiles once twisted, coiling into
a serpent form. So long now since
they struck then slithered
away, satisfied,
in search
already
of other
prey.

And still
I suffer
such crippling pain,
a lingering poison
rendering me
so often
immobile,
trapped
in silk
of woven
words,
for the best,
for your good,
for honor…
I am
unable
to escape
the tyranny
of a truth
no one else
knows –
nor can they
imagine,
as I could
not have
before,
the circle
of friends
with fangs
eager to
inflict
evil.