The Asp and Egypt

I sit by the chopped stumps of time.
Taste the smoke
A whiff of a thought beginning to roast
Lies interrupted.

The asp that poisoned,
killed Egypt
Didn’t carry that burden
Was ignorant of what it had befallen.

A Queen not brought to her knees?
Time
Irrevocable?
History,
Rewritable?

Egypt was dead already
The rivulets of poison
Had nowhere to trickle to.
Nothing spreads
Passes through or exists
In a void.

I sit by the chopped stumps of a massive tree
Not poisoned
Only defeated.

Written roughly about a year ago, lying down on crisp yellow burnt autumn/winter leaves in the muchly un-used lawns of my beloved doped out college :P