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Crowned with auburn locks,
Cascading down toned shoulders,
Sits a mighty queen.
Her eyes, replaced at birth with a hawk's,
Catch even the slightest treachery
That scurries past her.
Clad in crimson, perfumed in jasmine,
A lioness stands among men;
Roaring, they must obey her every whim.
She demands offerings of gold, diamonds, and silk.
In a land of equals, she counts herself first.
Uncompromising, her will is forged steel,
Her judgment is always correct.
For how can a deity be wrong?
Faults fall into bed with others,
But her muscled body is virgin to
The art of accidents.
A dear price is paid by those who wrong her,
A pound of flesh is not enough.
She lures her betrayers, barefoot over the
Hides of past traitors
Into a bath flanked by gargoyle candles.
Dancing flames glint off polished iron,
Soon to be drenched in gore.
The adulterer's liquid extinguishes the fire,
Quenches her ire,
But cannot sate her longing desire
Never to have set on him, three children ago.