Dark Lady

The mistress never agrees to a date,
Thus never early, and yet never late.
In the dark of night, or the light of day,
She is laying in wait, to make her play.
But she has no conscience, not a regret,
In her stone soul, cruelty’s blade is set.
She will grab the heart, twist, and squeeze it tight,
Or arrive with a kiss, in the middle of night.
Sometimes gentle, as though a mercy done,
Soft and fast, over before it’s begun.
Consumed with anger, mistrust, or despair,
Creates a violent, crushing affair.
Appears when convenient, to her design,
Then once there, the lady may change her mind.
Embodiment of a great, silent snake,
Lady of discretion, like an earthquake.
Without prejudice, none her favour win,
Young, rich and mighty all repay their sin.
Mistress of Death is of many graces,
She has many names, and many faces.