Where wild flowers bloom,
grass valleys dance in the blowing breeze
and spring showers make everything glossy,
lies the merciful female mind.
Something precarious and sometimes obscure
but mostly kind and benevolent.
Sometimes dressed in pink satin dresses
but mostly in naked skin.
A siren, an enchantress, a fairy
luring men with its song, magic and dance
sometimes for desire or lust
other times for cruel games of manipulation.
It blinds them and they do not notice,
they climb in to the path that deceive has built,
laying each stone with lies and fallacies,
sealing each step with venomous kisses.
Soon enough they are left to the
mercy of the female mind;
a tranquil well of poison and sorrow
occult by its beauty and grace.
But unaware they still remain
as the mercy of the female mind
curls its fingers around their hearts
and squeezes tightly until they are bruised.
And they, the captured men,
lie within its power forever
as tears on a chandelier it hangs off its neck
powerless all a trophy of the accomplished fiend.
With this the mercy of the female mind,
returns to being the angel of light it seems
and models its beauty in golden walkways
that feed the hearts of the men waiting to be taken.