On your hand a mythical creature is felt
Upon your palm a being proudly stands
Looking at it and all anguish seems to melt
Just standing there holding out its flawless hands
But in its beauty hides a darker soul
A remnant of a dark age
Gazing around, eyes glowing like burning coal
Stories of it written on an ancient page
Revealed as a she, the last of her kind
Hunted for amusement by the human race
With deadly grace, this world she will unwind
Vengeance carried out at torturous pace
On a mission to leave the land lifeless and cold
Of mercy she is ruthlessly numb
Once she starts all humanity will unfold
The fairy of vengeance has come.
©Josh West