In the shadows where the grasses sway,
Whispers of serpents glide and play.
Beneath the moon’s soft silver glow,
They weave a dance, gentle and slow.

Their scales reflect the night’s embrace,
Sliding with an ancient grace.
Silent hunters in the still of night,
Eyes that gleam with primal light.

Coiled in mystery, they lie in wait,
Guardians of secrets, sealing fate.
Through the underbrush, they silently creep,
In the quiet, their promises keep.

Nature’s enigma, both feared and revered,
In their presence, all is cleared.
For in the serpent’s silent song,
We find where shadows truly belong.