A contest entry for the Dark Dreamscapes Poetry Contest.
Hail, Queen of Vice!
A paragon of sin,
Your eyes speak wrath.
Your face though beautiful
Is a shadow of crime.
Your lips blue from drinking poison
Of the vile acts of dastardly men,
Who have stabbed your once puerile heart
With incessant ruthlessness and
Inflicted upon you immense pain.
You writhe with extreme anguish,
For you know that your innocence
Was misused by nefarious men
To satisfy their insatiable lust,
Thus making a victim of their desire.
Your pretty face is stern.
You stick to a spiteful life
Of vengeance and fury.
You wait for the final showdown
And come out with flying colours.