The Cold Fires

She sharpens her talons by the evening light
A fire in her eyes burns everbright,
She stalks the midnight prey
The lost and hopeless
The strong and determined,
All are her hunting ground.

Calling softly out to them,
Promising days of golden sunlight and nights of wondrous passion,
She charms and enchants, smiles and laughs,
And captures all who she desires,
Using them until they can no longer be used,
Then discarding them,
And moving on ...

Prowling and pacing,
Growling and racing,
She sallies forth to meet the invaders
And defeats them all
They burn in the cold fires of her heart.

A cheerful poem with no particular inspiration. :)