Even the master king cobra would die from my blood. Die as it slithers away with little food. And I would laugh as the king cobra does after biting me. Laugh while I sit on this cloud, crying, making it rain below. I would sit and laugh as I eat a freshly baked cake. A cake with virgin cherries on top. I would cut the perfect little slice too. Cut it just to throw it at the broken walls. As I sit making it rain below.