She had a serpents tongue
ringlets of venom lingered
off her lips
One could have turned to stone
if they gazed too long
But for me
I would have looked into
the eyes of Hades
battle mountains themselves
just for a glimpse of those
smooth emeralds
I had come to love her
If one could see her
they could trace the malice
that seeps off of her tongue
The muses couldn’t have
formed songs for her
I could have built her a shrine
Placed her right on the throne
bound souls on her foothold
I would have become that stone
those serpents
Herr servant
Éloa 
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