Nepenthes lives in warm and tropical lands
A masterpiece carnivore among the plants
A sculpted pitcher swings upon the vine
Calling for all with frantic wings like a siren
To rest a while as well taste a sugary treat
On its painted rim with nectar’s sweet deceit.
The hunter doesn’t move, it doesn’t strike
With a living cup where life & death is alike
No grip is found upon those waxy walls
And slick as ice, treacherous hallway falls
Into a pool where dark enchantments brew
As emerald depths begin to claim the due
The poor soul in stillness, plush and green
Is dissolved within a world, calm and serene.
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