I am the doctor of death
I am the sister of crime
I am the wind in the willows
Tis I the butcher of swine
For those for dispize me I am discreteful and for those do surprise me I am deceitful and for those who do not listen in my hands their skulls will glisten for deaths fury does not compare to mine. It creeps and chokes like a whispering vine slowly taking over till the end of time.