Every man worth the name
has a yellow snake in his soul,
seated as on a throne, saying
if he cries: I want to!: No!
Lock eyes with the fixed gaze
of Nixies or Satyresses, says
the Tooth: Think of your duty!
Make children, or plant trees,
polish verses, or marble frieze,
the Tooth says: Tonight, where will you be?
Whatever he likes to consider
theres never a moment passing
a man cant hear the warning
of that insufferable Viper.
The Warner
written byCharles Baudelaire
© Charles Baudelaire