Eyes of unruly fire

summoned by an agency

insistent on the discipline of shadows

summoned to unleash inferoes

of femininity

on the black-sheep magic

of her ancestors

Pupil erector of air stakes

rigid and consuming enough

to be branded tendencies of defence

against the credos of her hunter's company

the Coven decimators

A craft user

tagged as a runner in an arms race

only to be thrown away

as the finish line

Has anybody

some awakened maverick perhaps

zigzagged the pileup of principles

to decipher an embattled girl

maybe even lonely?

between the steel barrels in their hands

and the glass barrels on her face