Mother serpent, slumbering deep, my will,
Upon my breast she rests and watches still
The thoughts and actions of my life's display,
Judging which ones might offend her sway.
With exquisite Apollonian sounds, I lull her sleep,
Lest she by chance catch Dionysus' scent so deep,
For after, I shall need assistance fine and slight,
Since the base one, when enraged with all her might,
However painfully and raw I pay the price,
With venom, she will sacrifice my heart in vice.
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