beast of this field

Fully armed with weapons--
the destructive tools of craft.
A perversely cunning tongue,
cupped by sultry lying lips.

That Jezebelite temptress.
She is not intimidated.
By you, no longer enslaved.
For she is prepared to Own.

Enigmatically silent words,
will resonate inside of you.
Her red blood runneth cold
or boil tempest-- perhaps both.

The poison of ruthless vipers
is ever bitter to the lips,
but so supple in your hands.
Swept up in the torrent.

Between your thumb and palm,
you had her once-- or could have.
But alas you will no more!
Rosy Siren, hence untouchable.

Her convincing shield of coldness,
Flirtatiousness aloof
Slowly vanity destroyeth.
Entangled by it, you will Fall.