As a lady
By: Han Wei Tian
She was the lady in killer heels,
Hot lipstick, red nail polish
And black devil wings for eyeliner.
The fabric draped across her was smooth,
Her curves accentuated
In contrast to her fair skin, slender arms.
(She was his little lady.)
She was his, in his grasp
His fingers around her jaw.
She was trapped by charm
And he was smug;
The winner, and
The protagonist of this story.
He left bruises where he'd been,
Marking his little toy,
Making her dance.
She was under his spell,
And he controlled the strings.
But he never noticed the paintings move,
A blink of an eye,
A hushed whisper,
the warning signs.
She was black thread and ribbons,
Coiling her way around him,
Ropes of false pretence binding him.
The thread tightened, something snapped,
And she came alive.
He slept upon an empty throne.
She took her place,
Walking along the red carpet
With those killer heels
Without falling,
For she is a lady.
Hot lipstick, red nail polish
And black devil wings for eyeliner.
The fabric draped across her was smooth,
Her curves accentuated
In contrast to her fair skin, slender arms.
(She was his little lady.)
She was his, in his grasp
His fingers around her jaw.
She was trapped by charm
And he was smug;
The winner, and
The protagonist of this story.
He left bruises where he'd been,
Marking his little toy,
Making her dance.
She was under his spell,
And he controlled the strings.
But he never noticed the paintings move,
A blink of an eye,
A hushed whisper,
the warning signs.
She was black thread and ribbons,
Coiling her way around him,
Ropes of false pretence binding him.
The thread tightened, something snapped,
And she came alive.
He slept upon an empty throne.
She took her place,
Walking along the red carpet
With those killer heels
Without falling,
For she is a lady.