The Deep End

I'd like to catch her if she slipped
There's an abyss back there yawning and waiting
The song of demons rising from its depths
But they're ancient, their skills dulled
Fed by memory and little else
But even this still has its chains
And snares still set and primed
It's the plainclothes specimens around the rim
Night's black agents newly armed
That represent the more immediate threat
But even they are limited in their capacity
Their ability to inflict wounds
Fresh slices slow to heal
She assuredly has the wherewithal
The strength, resources and friends
She is freshly armed
The latest in hardware and technology
Ready to wage war in the past or present tense
But her preference is to live in peace
If she has objections or pain she can put it in writing
And, if she goes in deep
If she so chooses
That mad chorus will turn shrill and desperate
And the descent will be on her own terms
With suggestions from those traveling at her side
Never alone, and bad to the bone.