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The night was still, doors locked. Clock struck midnight, the moonlight blocked. The city painted black, the streets were clear. To a man who walked alone, their demise crept near. Strutting in black, her lips shimmered red. For vengeance was her love, or so the story had said. Her heart was once broken, her dignity stolen. He left her for dead, her body bruised and swollen. No longer a victim, she hunted her prey. She wielded her gun, and with men she had her way. Her way wasn't lust, she had no heart for love, Each man she shot point blank, her demons she was free of. She once was a girl with a heart that shined gold, But what one mad had taken from her, that heart turned to cold. Left for dead in the moonlight, like a black dahlia she laid, Soaked in her blood, a demon she was made. Men were her victims, like a hawk hunted game, She once was an innocent, but no longer the same. Each man she saw, she saw his face, Wanted all to have paid, for what she could not erase. The news plastered her fame, she was facing twenty-five to forever, She would never get caught, for she was far too clever. For all men met her green eyes, they dreamed of pure bliss, Falling too far they were murdered, and sealed with a kiss.

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