…there’s always a sting in the tail….

 

Whipping around the ebony crown,

She slashed and she tossed to and fro.

For what she could hit and how she could twist

Made grown men crumble and so…

She took full advantage of their cringing and fear

Never did they more than once come near

As her power and poison would blithely appear

With a grip and a welt, the nerves would sear

So into her crevice she crept

Awaiting the next one to flail

They wanted her nectar, …”so inept,”

She chortled, knowing, there’s always a sting in the tail! J

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