She lingers...
In nifty corners,
In plantations,
In corporations.
A thief in the night
Awake in daylight's shadows,
With a despicable plight.
She lingers...
Ready to pounce
On those who linger;
Their backs turned,
Facing the trigger.
Blow your whistles oh, laymen.
Don't cast your feet upon the linen path!
For there,
She waits...
She prays:
"Piece by piece
Limb from limb
Soul, from spirit"
She lingers...
The moon, alight,
The day, scorching bright.
Swaying her hips,
Licking her lips:
"Oh, the time to devour is nigh!"
A poem courtesy of the book One Last Smoke by Edgard The Bard
