Her way of beating one down
With her Artic words.

Cutting like a knife
She slices and dices
Till she feels above
But still seen as a
White dove

If they knew what
She is
Would she change
O stay as is?

Her wrath is one of the gods
When felt you turn colder
Than mount Titus

What I would change is her
but what has changed is I.
See
Some bullies never die.