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She slit throats just for fun
For paltry sums, she would stun
She called handsome men her hun
Then threatened them with a gun

She was known as the Betrayer
The Nabber, the hired Slayer
Of sin, she had on a thick layer
But now, she was getting grayer

She knew, however hard she’d try
The blood and tears would never dry
A wife’s despair, a child’s cry
Haunted her mind thru’ low and high

She finally stepped into the tub
To give herself a gentle scrub
Gore on her hands, she tried to rub
Aware she’s no more than a burnt stub

The water flowed beyond the brim
Fading lights, it all looked dim
Last breath gone, she now seemed grim
Her painted nails floating on the rim

**Written in response to the prompt this week at Magpie Tales, hosted by Willow Manor… Please make time to read and enjoy the creative takes by the other amazing writers and poets here… **

***Credits for this breathtaking image go to the lovely Willow :)***