A Vise Like Grip

Night falls, and she feels awakened.
The goddess yawns and stretches.
The start of her day is here.

She looks for the weak,
The innocent minded,
The mentally insane.
Those are her comrades for the night.

She breathes in the fresh piss-scented air.
She laughs joyously upon hearing the sounds
Of debauchery, and whispered dares.

“Je veux baiser!” she yells through the alleyways.
“Je veux le chaos!” she screams to anyone who will listen.

She cried for an angel,
But received a demon.
And for that she will have her vengeance.

-N

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