It has been said that poison is a woman's weapon. Here, then, is a punishment for a woman who might use such a tool.

They find me for the challenge,
They find me for the thrill,
Poor fools they are who come,
That I must surely kill.
They play the game I've fashioned,
Their lives all they can bet--
But I control the scoreboard,
And they've not won one yet.

Most mortals fear my power.
They know the legend well,
But none can know the answer
To this riddle sent from hell.
Doomed into this world of mine,
They come unerringly,
And when I take their lives,
I can't help wish the dead were me.

For I know bitter loneliness;
It is my only friend.
Would that I could make a friend
Of those I give their end.
But all I see I've seen before,
Those fools so brave and proud,
Who come to plumb my wisdom's depths
But find only their shroud.

So lonely in the darkest hours,
So lonely in the sun,
I'll answer for eternity
For all the wrong I've done.
Poison is a woman's tool--
I know that all too well.
From a need for unjust vengeance,
I have earned eternal hell.

Crueler still than any god
Would have dreamed so long ago,
Is every bag of bones that comes,
So confident they know.
But none of them have the answer--
With it comes my release.
But alas how man is foolish,
And brings me tears instead of peace.