by Nick Gisburne
Deformity - the torment of her day
The twist of tainted flesh on crooked bone
The eyes of those who witness it betray
The shock, the scorn, the hate she’s always known
At night, she stalks a secret, shadow place
With gun and blade she duels on the street
And, at the point of murder, shows her face
The final fist of terror in defeat
Her victims are the worst of mortal men
The arrogant, the reckless, and the vain
They fight, yet when they die, and only then
Does any man confront what gives him pain
She duels in the darkness of the night
With those who would despise her in the light
