The strange woman crawls out of her cavern,

untouched by sunlight, hair like a dog-hound,

Her body hunched over, beaten, tattered,

The eye of the molten monster stares down,

Her eyes stare back filled with the sun's patterns,

The still, blank, trees decorated by dawn,

Watch in anticipation, eyes scattered,

Amongst the woodland, intimately drawn,

To the mystical being of hazard,

Awaiting for her next victim to spawn,

She walks through the shrubbery, steps staggered,

Approaching a white and beautiful swan,

She sinks her teeth into its white feathers,

The once pure swan now tainted by pleasure.