She kills at behemoth pace whilst thrilling herself to the shrilled bone
Of a boisterous being
This choosing ability to witness, screen and to savour
and sumptuously see – a meandering, sad-handed equality
Black & white, simple as that…
No colour-coded in-between
Queen-of-all-evil
Twice
as
keen
And they will come in their undeniable droves
no less entertained by all of this bargain-basket,
glad-handling,
seething ability
Can
They
Not
Simply
See…
That
This
Is
The Changeling
… proposes to suppose to inordinately pose any such threatening threat
That they can and will… and remarkably shall… enthuse, infuse themselves
To unanimously cater
and do
Equanimity makes to mean an utter difference
soliloquy-ed fair constrainedly within
All picket-white fenced instances posthumously relinquished
Roses are red
Violets are the new blue blood,
Few who gathered to gain within themselves the real reawakening set sail
Enraptured to capture itself via paramilitary postponed you
At fabricated will – she won’t she, though?
Spill her burgeoning blood to wishfully rewind
To spellbind in time,
a brand new dishevelled pre-order
Supernatural hatched a plan,
to give birth
On heavenly hellish Earth
This blade shall have to be her adequacy, her blood-spattered legacy
