The Lady
She rides the air on moonlit beams
and softly whispers in my dreams.
An angel born of righteous light,
who traded heaven for the dark of night.
She weaves a web of delicate lies
and cast her spell with deep dark eyes.
Her lips are full and ripe to kiss,
but filled with more venom than a serpent's hiss.
She will draw you in with an hypnotic dance
and drain your mind into an evil trance.
She will lay you down on a bed of clouds
and wrap your soul with a black- laced shroud.
At last she owns you, you've become her slave,
you've slipped too far, no one can save.
You will float forever in her loving arms,
another fool has fell for her wicked charms.
10/3/18
Copyright © Wren Rushing | Year Posted 2018
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