aka Kalika

She threw the slickest moves on the dancefloor
hardened many a soft man
oozed rich and sticky promises
upon the threads of the web that she span

She wore the blackest skin on the dancefloor
blacker than a tar black night
No man who entered her ever returned
not even the Son of Light

She wielded the keenest blade on the dancefloor
could slit a throat with just one glance
wore like jewels the severed heads of all the fools
who'd ever asked her for a dance

She yielded to no one on the dancefloor
except the whims of her scimitar mind
yet she could turn cruelty into kindness
like water into wine

For she shielded the most tender heart on the dancefloor
behind a breast plate of Time
Destruction was her rhythm
but creation was her rhyme

Destruction was her rhythm
but creation was her rhyme