The Picture and the Serpent

This is a poem about my relationship with my soul, my inner desires

Whose is that picture there?
The eyes brimming over with childlike (childish) trust.
I feel the serpentine guilt uncoiling
The lips are bloodied, the face bloodless;
For cold steel doesn’t nurture.
The serpent awaits, hidden and alert
The arms I see, beckon:
Plead…
Its muscles tense, the prey fast approaches
The lips part, I hear silent words,
Please…
And the serpent flashes, the venom flows.