Snakes on the Brain

A basilisk exists within the pipes
   who slithers lithely, languid 'til the lack
   of caffeinated substance beckons near
   a silken voice subliminally clear;

Traversing caverns cochleal he speaks,
   a whisper first then crouching to a roar,
   demanding tribute: sacrifice the weak,
   those cells whose sympathy will turn to boor.

As somniatic urges well and crest,
   the serpent's cranial rage is frothed and fed,
   withdrawal from our lifeblood leads to rest;
   the fight begins again 'twixt brain and bed.
At last, one sip, to calm this mood austere;
   An echoed "kill" recoils from my ear.