Vile

She walks around under the shade of a smeared, wide brimmed, straw hat. The whiff of her entrance always greets with a menacing smile. She comes to destroy again. Sheltered under the hat is a vicious Cheshire cat smile, and a twisted brain that leaves one to question, "what happened to her?"

A calculated shape shifter, she notes it all and waits.......to prowl when you are unsuspecting, to grudgingly repay you. She forgets nothing. A narcissistic monster forged in the devil's lair, to grow up to outperform the devil himself and now Satan weeps. Demolition is her thing but not that of buildings......... of pulverizing innocent souls, of unnerving carnage, of blatant misemployment under the relishing of sovereignty. 

The trail of her destruction is beginning to intensify, and it becomes the tale that her sufferers all whisper. Stories that are pages long of her cruel card games can be read in any room that she enters. The victims are as still as God commands, and they watch with incredulity at her trying to fill His shoes too. How daring! 

Another day of sowing discord........is she not weary? How could she be when her minions lick the vomit she regurgitates and declares it as savory? Her whipping rope grows longer with each passing day, and she gathers twice as many victims along the way.

One day though, that wide brimmed hat and air of self- importance are going to blind her and there she will stumble. Upon stumbling, her neck of wickedness will find that rope and without warning, she will be hanged. Strangled out of her malicious blood and refilled with the nourishment of humility, she shall swing from side to side.

Until that day comes, that witch, that spawn of Satan, is simply.......vile!