The Widow

Born of the same mind,

Born to be one of a kind.

Bred to kill

And lie so still.

The blood you spew,

Blood of more than a few.

Your stance so great,

It was a piece of cake.

The secrets of your pride

Hidden by every stride.

A weapon they face,

Yet they are blinded by your grace.

When you dance,

They are entranced.

And out their secrets fall,

Whilst you collect them all.

Never a lover

That is part of your past.

Rather a lover

That is never meant to last.

As you head towards the door,

They are blinded by your allure.

When your hands break their neck,

Another payments added to your cheque.

You step into the shadows,

Your deed now done.

You are a killer of many,

But a widow of none.