The original is short; my version is a bit longer.

A lioness more deadly than its male
Who roams the desert seeking to devour
All that it can. Its eyes have evil power
to paralyze. The lashing of its tail

is terrible. Imprisoned on her isle
Scylla has tentacles, dogs at her waist.
Six snake-heads her own human one replaced
She was once beautiful, known for her smile

No longer. From some monster you were born,
one such as these. You clawed your vicious way
Out of their womb, and afterwards they lay
Dead, torn and bleeding. That is why such scorn

Is in your heart for one who’ll simply kneel
And beg for love from you, who does not feel.


About rozkaveney

Middleaged, trans, novelist, poet, activist
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