Like a hound,

Heart pounds

Femme fatale on the stairs.

The incubus, blood red in fury,

Leaves trails down the steps.

Hounding, 

Pounding,

Castles red and 

Hearts ablaze

Broken, painted and shiftily

Put back together

The devil cackles. 

Ridden with seduction,

Temptation on the tongue,

Drinks of blood and wine

Served by her,

Smile at her,

Praise her,

Her figure, her form but,

Never her smile,

Never her brain.

Femme fatale drunk on 

Femininity,

On bodies intertwined and thick, 

Sluggish movements;

She is paralyzed.

Temptation in her blood, 

In place of the calcium in her bones,

The devil cackles.

Drags her along, leashed and hands scratched from the ground,

Is it a mirage?

Do the men not see her?

Oh, but they do,

They froth and lack to see her

Tears,

Her torn dress and blood-red gown,

Droplets of labor and

Dreams flattened on the ground.

The devil cackles.

Hazed, rabid, growls of

Male dominance and forced femininity

Oh, such Anger!

Lashes out, she, her unfairness,

Oh, Justice! 

The devil cackles.

The incubus screeches, the succubi quails.

She runs, footsteps slipping,

Red haze and the 

Ruby crown of her sisters in her desperate eyes.

She jumps, 

To be impaled. 

They can never let her escape, 

No,

Femme fatale fataly femme,

Feminine to a fault,

Falls on swords,

He swore it wasn’t this way, Justice

Trembles.

The devil cackles.