Hakeem Alexander, Owning My shadow

Tears Of The Serpent: When The Venomous Cry

When The Venomous Cry

Tears Of The Serpent

You have probably never dared to look into the eyes of any serpents. Especially if you know they can poison you with a sting or a bite.

And if you do that sort of thing, then you may be a bit careless or else a trained expert in the handling and “charming of snake” and other such creatures.

But what I am laying the foundation for here is a metaphysical journey. An adventure in applied philosophy for the soothing of the mind impassioned by the heart.

This year happens to be the “Year of the Snake” as far as the Chinese Astrology is concerned.

Coiled up within the heart of the world is a venomous serpent. And it is time that we looked this beast in its eyes.

But we must not look with fear, but instead a great deal of Love. For this is the calming elixir for the rage of the snake, as well as the anti-venom.

You can strongly feel the vibrations of the serpent within. As this is the energy permeating the whole of the planet and all who dwell in, on and around it.

And the snake is coiled around the Earth. Searching and watching with a heat seeking tongue and eyes that pierce the darkness.

Just as all snakes crave the heat of the Sun, so does this serpent energy pervading all things, seek out a star to warm its cold-blooded heart.

Woe to those who have been born with the sign of the snake. For they are especially enthralled in this mission for warmth and comfort beneath the starlight.

Seduced by the Princess, clothed in black, and as exciting through mystery as she is entrancing; with her subtle and natural, yet captivating beauty.

She haunts his soul, that heart of the snake has been enthralled and in the fire light of the eyes and glow of the Black Cloth Princess.

A taste of venom?

What does she want?

Why is it that she dare gaze into the eyes of the serpent?

Why doth she charm with her comforts of warmth and light?

For she wants to have no faithful companion. No, instead she drifts and wanders into the minds, hearts and arms of many. Choosing none, bewitching all.

Oh, and how the serpent bares his fangs!

Dripping with poison he aims to strike down the hearts of those others who also bask upon the stone where the Princess shines.

Though he dares not.

For there is always the chance that he will be called by the Black Cloth Princess to coil beneath her flame upon the stone, as the sole companion.

The uncertainty is conflicting and enraging. So much so that every so often the serpent lashes out upon himself.

But how much more can he take?

There is only so much of his own venom that he can endure before he breaks his own heart as it is flooded with the poison of misguided wisdom.

This is the fear that provokes tears. To live in an anguish without a Princess; or to die from his own vicious and deadly bites. Both are like agony.

This is the insanity of romantic love. That focused energy of desire. The powerful wanting of that which is set upon with affection and lust.

So much more so for the snake who is meticulously selective. Taking such care to observe and study with magnificent precision before choosing the soul to mate.

Oh how dangerous this is!

A great peril for the serpent who is bound by wisdom and intellect. As skilled as can be in the art of war and death strike; yet intelligence reserves the war rattle.

Instead the venomous cry.

Moaning and wailing silently to the world. But this is the most horrific noise inside the mind of the snake.

It is torture. To watch the Princess of his desire go this way and that. To dance in the hearts and minds of so many others.

This is a great and grave pain.

Why so does the snake focus so intently?

Because he knows exactly what he wants. The Princess knows exactly what she wants also. But she has been so pained and broken hearted that trust is gone.

Even one so faithful and loyal as this serpent of wisdom who wants nothing more but to gently coil and embrace such a lovely, dark-clad Princess.

The anguish of the venomous weeping is almost unbearable. Were it not for such astounding intellect, it would all fall apart.

So many would die. Stings and bites and fangs and blood.

Yet for the potential love of the Princess in his heart and the wisdom of the mind, this great snake holds back. Lying in wait on the grass.

Such tall, green, wonderful grass. It makes one forget that danger may lurk there. Even so beautiful is the grass that the snake forgets his rage.

For it is not a real rage. It is a self loathing and self pity. For with all his might and power; with all the swiftness of strike and the deadliest of poison; he fears rejection.

A cold-blooded heart is one of solid ice and breaks all the more easily than those warm blooded creatures who share the Earth.

A breaking so thunderous that it shatters silence. It is like a dream quickly becoming a nightmare. Oh how much these tears are soaking the ground.

Mud becomes of the soil as if it were raining down from the heavens. Even on this bright day, lit far and wide by the light of the Black Cloth Princess; a dark cloud rains.

A personal storm that only the snake wades in. For it is a pool of his own tears. Tears made of venom. A poisonous rain.

Paralyzed by fear; drowning in tears.

This is so pathetic. How the insanity of this so called “love”; this thirst and lust for the beauty and the body of the alluring Black Cloth Princess.

The Princess so lovely.

These tears so ugly.

Made of poison they do kill. But it is slow for the snake who is the one who makes his own bath of venom.

Crying and dying all the same for the romance he has not the courage to ignite. Afraid of the finality of it all. Dreading the long search for another “perfect” Princess.

This is the burden that must be bore. The horror created inside the mind and planted in the fiery heart of the dreaded serpent. Most dangerous to himself.

As he lay dreaming; coiled in sleep, crying in a heap, the poison pool steaming. Blood boiling and a heart beating like the drums of war.

The Tears Of The Serpent Flow Freely. But this is short lived. For the pain is also intoxicating and a reminder of his great and Royal Power.

Instead of drowning The Fire Snake drinks in the pool of tears. He may cry himself to sleep but shall rise in flame the next light of day.

For who needs the light and heat of a Princess, or anyone else for that matter, when you are the most sensuous and infernal embodiment of fire itself?

It is not long before the Fire-Snake rises from the pity and self doubt and conquers first himself, and then all else that be in his path.

There is no challenge that can not be overcome. There is no Princess heart that can not be won. All you must do is remain faithful to who you really are.

You are the Fire Of Love itself. There is nothing but goodwill in your heart and passion you wish to give to any worthy princess.

There is honor; there is valor; there is nobility, might and power. Yes we have seen the frailty. But it was momentary.

The tears of the serpent are now waves of power.

There is always triumph. There is always gain for all. There is always the best of the best to be had even when we fall. Rise and rise almighty viper of flame.

Live eternally in the light of the day you create.

You live in power and song; When the Venomous Cry.