I see the dead and soulless/ souly hopeless/ she's a guilt ridden/ forbidden fruit filled cornucopia/ ancient texts in ancient scrolls spoke of the living dead/ she's beautiful and dying/ her truths are lies and that which lingers inside her soul hungers to be loved/ though she cannot find it/ used and tossed again until her heart grows cold and still/ and her soul becomes as frigid/ jaded, she learns the art of/ to destroy the hearts of boys who know no such treachery/ she hunts her prey/ their blood flowing from her mouth and eyes/ she's dead, and has no life/ her lifeless eyes despise the holy/ delighting in her sinful nature, she gives into earthly lust and treasure/ finds comfort in emptiness/ in empty places/ her dress is like that of ancient silk/ a thousand stitches per inch/ a thousand years she's lived.
His blood beads and rolls down his virgin neck/ she sees his lifeless eyes she licks her lips but starts to cry/ a single tear appears and falls from within her head into his blood and pools and swirls/ she paints his picture with his blood on an old canvas an ancient easel/ her first thirst was much worse than she could dream/ she continues to cry, but wants to scream/ his soul surrounds her tormenting day and night/ in every young man, she sees his face/ laments the day she first could breathe.
(This piece describes the girl who is beautiful but also deadly to the soul. The kind of girl who could easily destroy you. More keenly described in the book of proverbs, although in this piece she is not a prostitute.)
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