Siren

Like ice on fire, we defied the laws of man,
adversaries of the man below,
feared amongst the bravest of them all.
The dirty, musty motel room was a temporary dwelling, they always were,
he sat on the stained sheets, turning the blade over in his hands,
planning, we always planned,
we came out at night, every night.
He was handsome, his dark hair carelessly messy,
his green eyes and pouty lips had been the draw,
he knew he had me, I was his princess,
I was the modern day siren and he was my creator.
I drew prey in like a spider, weaving its silver web with ease,
the thrill of the next kill was what we craved,
to see life leave a man's eyes so blank and empty,
the life of a serial killer is about as pretty as a rotten rose,
that was exactly what I was,
the innocence of a doe corrupted into the wrath of a cobra.
Blue eyes slightly crazed, hair askew and untamed,
I'd become the picture of insanity,
lost in the grasp of Vengeance.