A goddess of the Hunt

Stealth is her trade,
Slowly; under the cloak of solitude,
Every step carefully calculated
To bring perfect misery on her targeted prey,
Thats how she prefer them,
She flaunts her unkempt figure like a beautiful mess,
Her allure, enchanting like a siren song
She cannot be ignored
Like a beautiful damsel she occasionally plays possum,
Just to draw closer her prey , disarm, dominate, and devour
Leaving behind a trail of tears and sadness

A goddess of tact

Walls complement her maneuver;
The thicker the walls the bigger the prey,
Like Great Britain she thinks isolation splendind,
A mistress of solitaire
Her Allure, enchanting like a seasoned mating call,
Which turns social creatures to competitively solitary creatures,
Sworn to neither touch nor breathe the same air,
At the threat of death, her prey, scurries to the comfort of her walls,
Where she can, like a black widow spider, disarm, dominate and devour,
Leaving behind a trail of death and despair.

A goddess of the past

She hunts her prey with great skill and tact
Distancing it from all social life
Separating it from its kindred with big walls,
Devide and conquer tactics
Keeps it locked inside within her reach
Solitude; her vantage point,
She feeds off insecurities,
Disarms her prey through isolation,
Dominates it by controlling its every thought,
And devour it by reconstructing every memory
 To make the past more Appealing than the present
 Deleting any flicker of hope that might lurk beyond her walls.

We are prey and hence are at her Mercy.
Written by Soxy (SoxThePoet)
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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