Sent from heaven
down the old canyon road.
She strode.
Fire in her eyes
searching for the prize
she would take as her own.
Under a painted moon
a fragile future strewn
ahead and below.
With arms open wide
no place to hide.
She glided across the snow.
Her body blue bright light.
Blinding all creatures with fright.
Resisting all they might.
It was useless
too strong.
Her angelic song.
Pulsed with the rhythm of devotion.
No control over emotion.
Guided by the notion.
To capture the ocean
of souls with her potion.
She forced them now,
to themselves disavow.
As she claimed the prize as her own.
Their souls she had taken.
Their wills forsaken.
She would not be mistaken.
Her faith unshaken.
thejrpc 