A Snake's Desire

A snake’s desire is only but the drop of blood of its catch, to feel its meat trapped inside its fang of poison and stringy tongue, keeping the small animal with no ways of escaping. A snake’s desire can bring itself to pin down life itself to keep its only life on the pathways, to find a mate to pin her down with its greed and torture her in the hidden blankets of the earth. A snake can be invoked by fear, to strike with ivory curls of venom and eyes hidden from fear and blistering with anger. Only a snake’s desire cannot force its way through lands of perished ruins and scorching bodies left as useless droppings from God. A snake’s desire only borders its way around food and procreation, rather than I that would fight my way through souls of running blood and strain myself to walk the path of my own desires. For lust mists around me as I make my way towards where my hoofs smack the surface of the ground, and where the voices of omen lead me. For seasons I have only led myself through terrains of earth, only guided by my lust for the taste of freedom and longing. I walk the soil of this earth, my heart only as kind as how thin the hairs of a single string of hair from my mane.

Mesas sprung from lands before me, cliffing up, towering over me in a way I have not seen before. I have walked along side mountains that had not resembled the way this strange landmark has. I entered this Scorched Wastelands greeted by lands of sands and death. The souls of the dead pulled me, reaching their bony hands towards me, tugging me down towards their lands of hell. Souls cries like the beasts they were before the fall of their death. Blood was washed on the ground of this land, scrubbed along the depth of these sands and stones. The colour of the liquid of life reflected in the soles of my eyes, as I’ve been told. My eyes reflect the iciness of a deathly desire I murder for.

I moved through the barren lands, like a snake forcing its endless way forwards through the rushing river of blood. I battled in this atmosphere, as the armies have battled through enemy herds, so lost and forgotten, yet has made such a fine discovery. How strange these lands were, so cruel, the graveyard of the downfall, the graveyard of forgotten creations God has uselessly given. Death pierced the land, and bones flowered the ground like a meadow of ivory, plants strained to live on the land trying to reach out further in the edges of a river. This land was a stain on the earth; such death has rotted along a line of suicides, horses that fought for honour but died with regret. Even the greedy, cruel, eyes of a snake could see such misery that walked the soil of this land. I have been a murder myself, I have seen such death and losses that one would call sacrifices, but I, suicide. My heart was attacked by the cruel life of blood, the mists of lust guided its way into a doom long forgotten. I let myself by guided so, for I enjoyed the life of a murderer, for I knew how to control the hatred and greed I felt, and make it so I may pin it precisely on what I desired. My desire has brought me this far, in a land owned by a great stallion that would be clutched by I. I found myself in this land, and I will guide myself through it.

I was not the white resembling a heavenly glow like the streaks of light showering down of the dying souls, nor the peaceful rays of the sun that shed light upon the lands of below, not the cooling white of a shimmering moon that gazed from the sky surrounded by dotted stars. No, I would be described like the deadly white of a cruel storm of snow that fell upon herds like heavy rain and freezing them until life dripped from its control, until they had no choice but to keen to its command. Such small specks holding fine patterns of elegant beauty, so small, so lovely and… so divine, yet so forceful and fatal. I have such features so slender, delicate like the flakes that buried the dead, and yet so cold like the winter chills that has stopped so many from continuing the walk down their pathways of life any longer.

My hoofs beat on the land, racing the river to its end to face a stain of this land. I stopped before it, and looked upon it. My value will be proven, my strength and use will be revealed by my actions. The leader of this cruel land, Naga, such a face I have remembered from my past, a fine stallion that will walk the land with his strength and control. He can only deserve the best.

My hoofs touched the stiff searing ground, a heat so painful it lashed at me only to be ignored. This was not the warmth of a mother’s milk, or comfort of her womb, not the familiar herd that has grazed around you since the birth of your life. Every part of my body screamed at me with just that moment I touched this soil of a tar pit. This hellhole stained the land for years, beyond the past of her birth, before the line of the good and dark string bordered its way along this earth, before the flesh of life clung on the bones of ivory, when the light first touched the surface of the stones and dirt of this land. The dirt from my hoof burnt into ashes, and I sprinted myself forward with all the energy I have stored within myself. My legs stretched its self before me, making me fly down the ocean of fire. My breath ran shorter and faster within every moment, each step seemed to be forced by the remaining life of mine, and for what felt like years I found myself on bare soil again exhausted from my run. I breathed heavily and my legs shook, but my mind was strong and eager. I raised my head to look across the surface of this new land, a land that would soon be mine, for I shall fight to become the lead mare, for I have already proven my worth with my forceful strength. My blood eyes moved along the sands to find a snake curled up and moved from its snug pose to a defensive pose that threatened me with its fangs. I whispered words to it, accepting its challenge, and flicked it from its pit in the dirt and into the pit of tar to watch it scorch and burn.

“Doeseth thy desire of a horse compareth to thy desire of a snaketh?”