She enters with a glide, as if her legs were mere phantoms of sticks.
Glide not walk,
The utmost impeccable form with a string pulling her
From her backbone, up…up…up…to the sky.
Straight form,
She curtseys with a graceful bow that puts the swan of The Great Lake to shame.
Head up, chin out, walking as if she were going to the Queen herself.
Then….
Then…
Oh what horror!!! What horror!!
There is no hope! Not a trace of faith in the world.
For not even Hera could keep this catastrophe at bay.
Slowly but neatly, she does it.
With a gentle nudge of her upper lips she revs those weapons.
Pearly white.
She fires one by one.
Unrelentingly taking out each warrior.
They are brave but irredeemable from the terrible loss they will soon suffer.
Not a thousand guns nor spears could outlast this weapon.
Cling to your husbands! Don’t let them go! Oh, don’t you dare!
For that is when you are doomed to the fate of
Being the apparition that is his previous visions of love.
He will not think of you no more when the word
Lovely comes to mind.
He will think of the lady with the stinging smile.
For if you have the free will and conviction to
Pry your gaping eyes from her lovely form, you will see
The Dead Sea of her eyes, reflecting what is lacking in the heart.
Her previous victims trapped in those soulless pits.
Hold fast my dears!! Hold fast!!
Even you cannot help but surrender to
The smile that stings.