Raving, ranting.
Almost chanting.
Blaming in a way
that could draw blood.
Never had a sword
struck out that hard.
And he was gelded
by black velvet
as his heart broke
into shards.

She called herself a friend
even as her sharpened claws
dug in. Even as she put
an awful spin on every
word and phrase evoked.
Claiming even ghosts
that did her honor.

Misty morning at the site
where just one grave
was burning bright.
Within the damp,
a vision coming clear.
An image that she
secretly held dear.

A virgin Goddess,
ready to attack.
With she herself
an Artemis that
lacked divine
appeal.

Surreal, the passing
seasons of her life.
Hazy mists that could
seem dark or bright.
Venom launched
each time she tried
to staunch the rage
inside.

Raving, ranting.
Almost chanting.
Blaming in a way
that could draw blood.
Never had a sword
struck out that hard.
And he was gelded
by black velvet,
as he used her up
within the lust,
denied...

? Michaelette ?