Her attractive skin, mostly bare, in any clime looks alabaster,
Her heart, dark, envious green granite, rarely seen anywhere
had a hole drilled to pass right through it's coarse middle,
quite befitting for a 'crown crusted cobra', to snuggle within,
and inhabit, perfectly concealed, day and night, yearlong,
not on the eye shot of the prying world, it would remain
the unknown secret at the core of her enigmatic, existence.
Her eyes, shimmering embers of coal would entice,
any one smitten by desire, who dares to look at her face,
that vision of her from the very first sight remains frozen
though warped by spherical error, incorrigible!
Her slur sounds music to her fawning admirers.
She was a metaphor, for a perfect baneful construct.
