Behind that innocent smile,
She's hiding a contagious poison,
Only the lucky ones get to taste it.
At first they relished,
"Tastes like honey", they all whispered.
Stupid selfish men thought doing a favour to her,
She laughs inside, reminds herself of the
Game of chess she just started.
Shaping their persona,
Painting their bodies with the best of colors,
She knew it all.
Those desperate bodies, That hunger in their eyes,
Craving for the tiniest part of her.
"In a sky so bright, I'll shine so bright for you", they all declared,
And yet she was called the " attention whore" when everyone left.
As soon as they saw empty pots of honey,
She couldn't trace their footprints anymore.
"Poor her" they pitied, as they saw hundreds of goodbyes,
She smirked, hiding hundreds of pots inside.
Stopped playing safe, they left,
Removed the mask, they hide,
"Poor her" they all sighed.
They don't realize,
Her dagger has been sharpened,
Final verdict has been prepared.
At her fingertips, their words dance,
At their highest tip toes, they await her presence,
Under the moonlight, they feast on her imaginary body.
In the game of chess, my friends,
She has always been the queen,
And these small little pawns,
"Poor them", she Won.

.    .    .