She Took Command Of The Underworld

She rode the heatwaves scorched to the underworld, via the express way,

Looking for trouble from some big guy, the one keeping score or so they say,

She has plans of torturing him in his own manner, happy to stay and play,

Believing him to be nothing more than a bully, using sinners as his prey.

***

She’s dressed to kill, in the green band of Mother Nature’s rainbow,

Thigh boots made from the wildest wolf’s heart and feathers of a black crow,

Her boots are laced with the wolf’s whiskers, nothing stronger you know,

And on her back she carries a serpent’s skin rigged six foot cross bow.

***

She means business and failure is not in her repertoire, she’s better than that,

Arriving at last, she jumps down from the heatwave, watching the minions scat,

As she gazes around the underworld in distain, she listens to the hateful chat,

Do they not realise who has arrived, ready to destroy them all with a simple splat?

***

“Tell your lord I am here, as I assume I need not introduce myself to you fool,”

She calls over the firestone wall, where she knows one sits and drools,

As she waits, she taps her foot and crosses her arms, the smile on her face cruel,

Waiting impatiently for the one who is said to rule this wasted terrain and cesspool.

***

Suddenly, without any other forewarning could be heard, there’s silence abound,

And she uncrosses her arms, slinging her crossbow to eye level, looking around,

A dog with burnt fur scurries from the doorway, disappearing into the background,

But too little too late, as she lets loose her bowstring, impaling the hell hound.

***

Silently the one she is here for, steps into view, a smile on his handsome face,

“Who demands that I drop everything, do you not realise I’m the boss of this place,

Who has the audacity to order around my minions, who is this nutcase,”

He asks, as his eyes enlighten on the woman in front of him, shocked by her grace.

***

She stands there speechless as her raw and bloody heart beats in time to her pants,

Reining in her breath, wondering how evil can cause her thoughts into a trance,

Moving closer as her feet have a mind of their own, she’s not in control of this dance,

No, she’ll not be influenced by evil, his mocking smile wiped from his face at a glance.

***

He steps closer, as she pulls a whip from her pocket, made from a unicorn’s hair,

Smiling viciously as he freezes, he recognises that he is beaten, kneeling in despair,

As the whip winds around his neck, she laughs, pulling him in tightly into her snare,

Decapitating his glorious, but evil, head from his shoulders like she hasn’t a care.

***

She has every intention of becoming the new mistress of this strange land,

But don’t become complacent, she’s not the goodness and grace of command,

No, she has a tough side to her, one you’ll not want to see, do you understand,

Stay in her good books and you’ll continue to travel the land, as previously planned.

If you liked my writing, please click on the small heart underneath, near my name. Or send me a tip and let me know you enjoyed it.

****

Please click the link below my name to read more of my work. I would also like to thank you for taking the time to read this today and for all your support.

If you enjoy this piece, you may enjoy this one too.

Originally posted on Medium