Her eyes were long dark tunnels,
which echoed the sound of hungry rats
Her clothes were folds from the night sky
with the moon and stars violently removed
Her skin was rippled leather, in places torn
cold veins kept her contempt in circulation
Her cursed shadow trailed her movements
sometimes leading her to the cliff of danger
Her evil was a union with Lucifer,
a swollen snake wraps her fragile neck
Her touch was to deliver a kiss,
an unwelcome wet plague
Her home was within the flames of hell,
the heat spicing her imagination
Her name was not one we speak,
the tales we tell our children, warn of her
Her movements can be detected
amongst the steel cathedrals we build
Her ambitions are being realised
as we scrape the dollar painted skies
Her victorious voice
may be the last scream from Earth
Her infectious greed
a pandemic pulse ridding the planet of man!
© Copyright 2017 Philip H20s. All rights reserved.
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