Dark wings, slowly pumping
procelain skin, clad in soft silk
eyes of emerald, forever piercing
a blade of darkness, an axe of decay
her smile grim and daring

She flaps slowly, over the darkened sky
She watches gently, all the people below
She swoops silently, down to her target
She slashes swiftly, the shoulder is severed
She chops forcefully, the head falls to the ground

Her wings flap silently, taking her high
Into the sky, away from the carnage
the soul intact, for the flight to Dis

Penned by my hand on the 24th of Ferinus, in the year 417 AD.