She’s a whore of life, this woman of man,
she sits at a throne, and summons commands.
Her beauty is insatiable, all lust her creation,
they covet and desire her timely flirtation.
She’s a tramp of joy, she’ll steal your pride,
few escape her brutality, many have tried.
A vixen so beautiful, rare and unique –
she preys upon you; the weak and the meek.
She storms with violence; grasp her dedication,
she hails the glory of this blustery castration.
She soaks her conscious, with your admiration,
pouring down chaos, on the winds of frustration.
This Trollope of beauty, has flooded the minds,
of these foolish men always searching to find,
a tsunami of ecstasy too grand I ensure,
for the whore of the universe; Mother Nature.