A Snake with broad smile of it
Has no reason to sway,
When all it does is rest and prey
With no seasons of way.
A guide it was to ones in need;
A song which soothed the date.
None knew it would go stale
With just a stroke of fate.
Had zeal of sloth, but esteem of God,
Leaving no point open to fall.
‘Twas a pain of thousand needles
When the trust had him befallen.
Losing the name, he once owned;
With the love he once cherished.
From a song as merry as a tribal lore,
gaining solitude, with smiles no more.