by Nick Gisburne
We have a new addition to the clan
A shimmering assassin, brazen, bold
Her gratitude is buried in a man
Her father, dead, dismembered, skinned and sold
A sickness of the mind infects her sleep
With lurid dreams and terrifying sweats
Awake, a fog of mania may creep
Beyond the point of violence and threats
The fools who dare to heckle her to strip
Are tortured with a soothing sense of calm
She mutilates the fingers, tip by tip
And slices hearts and flowers through the palm
Her work demands the very highest bid
Dig deep, and be forever glad you did
