The Harlot Poem by Catherine Agunat

She's like a silent succubae
Who exists in reality
The symbol of carnality
That deceives humanity

Her lips is red as cherry
Flavoured by faux strawberry
Full of lies and transgression
Which bring men to destruction

Everywhere she will go
Scattered in New York or in Moscow
Lover of the nightclubs, darling of the disco
A wise seducer that will cause vertigo

A bread winner she maybe
Or a soul who lives desperately
Maybe an opportunity seeker
But a silent gold digger

Her voluptuous shape is men's attraction
But full of invisible contamination
When she will end, when she will retire from prostitution
This harlot, the slave of abomination