The Queen of Hearts (PnQ Ball)

An intricate carriage,
Suddenly arrives,
Painted with roses and cards,
And blood red designs.
A trembling footman,
Rushes to the door,
His eyes alight with fear,
The color in his face no more.
The door creaks open,
With a terrible shrill,
That pierces the ears of onlookers,
And echoes up the hill.
A single slender leg appears,
Falling out the slit of a dress,
With a sharp stilleto stepping down,
Ready to impress.
The woman stands proud and tall,
In a red gown much too tight,
Covered in sequins and exquist jewels,
That sparkle under the moonlight.
Her pupils dilate,
Glowing an eerie red,
And narrow down at the man,
Filling him with dread.
A visible shudder runs through him,
As he reaches for her hand,
Her skin, cold as ice,
Paralyzing him where he stand.
She slides out of the carriage,
With quite the promiscuous parts,
When a guest suddenly gasps,
"Is that the Queen of Hearts?"
They all watch her in silence,
As her heals click across the floor,
Like a snake stalking unexpeting prey,
She makes her way up to the door.
As she enters the Ball,
Her full lips do grow thin,
As her unimpressed eyes do a once over,
Of all the dancing men.
With a sneer of her lip,
And a glare in her eye,
She watches in disgust,
As the others dance by-
For her blood lust is wild,
And yet to be fed,
"Stop all this nonsense,
Or it's off with your head!"