She stabbed wickedly, with her poisoned dart,
Aiming straight toward his heart.
She saw red and felt only rage,
And as she lunged she turned the page.
And her aim was true, she thrust it deep,
He stumbled forward, and fell in a heap.
She basked in his pain, and banshee howls,
Then she fell from the air, disemboweled.
9/10/14
ALTON TEXAS
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem