The Devil's Harlot

There is a whisper
That they speak
Of one so lovely
Of beauty deep
She who stands
With skin so fair
Eyes aglow
And silken hair
And so they whisper
With much lust
Of soft caress
And passion’s touch

But men are men
As men can be
And turn blind eye
To what they see

Behind this mask
Of golden face
There hides a soul
Of spite and hate
      Of venom pure
      Deceit so foul
Men! Beware of lover’s scowl

There is no goodness to be found
There is no virtue that abounds
The beauty inside
         Is but a wish
         The dream of men
         A tasty dish          

Oh, men, oh men!
Why know they not?
She lies in wait
She spins her plot
And with a savage cold hard hand
She strikes them down
She strikes down men
And sends them to her maker’s feast
Where he dines
On tasty treats.