The marauding giant snake isn’t there
In spirit, his eye askance, as if bored,
Though it tries to swallow the horse head first.
The man, trotting by without a kid’s care
(He seems to be a knight or princely lord),
Will soon have his vitals torn out or burst
By his horse’s hind hooves or the snake’s tail,
With no one to heed his nearly choked wail.
If I came on this scene what would I do?
There seems to be no spear, arrow or blade
On the ground, and I’m no David who slew
His giant with a stone. An enfilade
Of rocks pelted by my two-armed army
Would just turn the snake’s other eye on me.
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