Fury

Fleeing and twisting the
reptile sings,
  “Fury is not mine,
   fury is thine”.

The prophet brings God milk,
The snared brings the wine.
   “Fury is not mine,
   fury is thine”.

With no lips to whisper,
the scornful rest,
a cornerstone in their crypt.
  “Fury is not mine,
   fury is thine”.