Drawn To Death Poem by Theodora (Theo) Onken

Her demeanor can be ever so bleak
As her fascination with death overwhelms
Her heart as hardened as the grave stones she visits
Grey days and muted tones-her aura
The less is more people-her religion
Anti-social of anti social
Obsessions of suffocation she cannot deny
Her soon to be victims-a forewarning
Fortune teller beware
As her agenda's are hidden
The night-her best friend
Visits her frequently
Her profession: Hired Assasin
Done without thought or twinge of conscience
The mob keeps her in designer ware
And a hidden lush home on the side
Not a Surprise!
She's about to strike again
So cock sure of herself
So sure her reality is covered
Winter comes calling
This will be her last one free
For this time the hit is on her
They're waiting...