Cobra King

The Cobra lay where Cobras lie, a King within his lands. With hooded head and armoured scales and venom in his fangs. The Cobra soaked up morning sun, the nighttime turned to day. As warmth refreshed his deathly sleep, he slithered on his way. A mouse or lizard, bird or frog, a tasty little treat. Is what he sought with flashing tongue that sensed his daily meat. But not today was fate his friend, his kingdom under threat. He rose to meet an enemy that he had never ate. For in his way a hillock stood with soldiers everywhere, none loyal to our Cobra King his rules they did not share. In unison the ants advanced there’s nothing that they feared. Streaming out from muddied walls their thin red lines appeared. His orders hissed from hooded fangs and poisoned threats declared. Had no effect on their advance as up his scales they dared. From inside out they ate the King, a royal feast enjoyed. The reign of terror of his kind, so easily destroyed. For poison running in your veins can not defeat them all. But little things beneath great power, can make a kingdom fall. Ivor G Davies