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The River of Snakes

A troubled journey

By David AlemanPublished 7 years ago 1 min read
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Coughing plumes of smoke my voyage is so loud

but standing on this pointed bow my ambitions are so proud

I am searching for the holy ones, who brought us all good will

Yet knowing how these savages live they are easy men to kill.

Bringing the word of God is not always an easy ride

Sometimes your safety and soul are worth more than your miss placed pride.

An emblem and coat of arms adorns your mighty shield

Yet the men you try to convert have weapons and will not yield.

The angry man who steers the boat is weary now and sad

For a life of luxury and of love is life he has never had

He takes these men of words and books and of Gods and prayers for men

And knowing that when they leave his craft he will never hear of them again.

They say these tribes are cannibals who cook and eat mankind

yet searching through these trees and lands they are really hard to find.

But if they come across you with your religion for a sinner

They will ignore all of your good words and make you their next dinner.

surreal poetry
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About the Creator

David Aleman

I am a tired, middle aged man. Artistic and sporty but broken and bruised.

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