If you can find my tarnished soul
Then you can have my heart.
As soon as I again am whole,
We’ll never be apart.

Beware of what you blindly seek,
My ancient heart is cold.
My favor is not for the weak,
For once, my soul was sold.

The djinn who lurk in desert sands
Have placed their eyes on you.
To end up in their hungry hands
Would mean your life is through.

You sought me for so very long,
So greedy for my favor;
So lured by my ancient song,
A melody you savor.

O Goddess great, I hear you say,
A daemoness to some;
My price is very steep to pay —
Yet still you surely come.

Forever hidden and afar,
I lay betrayed and broken,
Bewitching like a fixed gold star
Bedimmed by curses spoken.

The ancient spells and binding runes
Entrapped my heart and soul.
Interment under desert dunes
Had taken quite a toll.

Once sweet and pure as silk I was
To my unfaithful love.
His curse was not without its flaws —
I called for help above.

My call was heard by one nearby;
A fiend came to my aid.
He said that death I would defy;
My pain, my soul, would fade.

When I agreed to give my soul,
He grinned and laughed at me.
He promised I would waken whole —
But not to set me free!

Grim legends from the aeons past
Enticed a few to seek me.
My luring grave-song would not last —
Yet they would chant obsequy.

I feel your deeply hidden weakness —
You need a mighty queen
To cure your life’s unending bleakness;
Your woes are now unseen.

I soon became so cruel and cold
From years of solitude.
My perfect pureness would not hold
In silent desuetude.

I am not soft, I am not sweet,
I am not innocent —
I’m filled with darkness and deceit
That festers discontent.

Yet you in turn can be rewarded
If you return my soul;
If my hard heart is dearly hoarded,
You’ll fill that gaping hole.

My ancient patience has grown thin;
My tolerance is weak;
Erase your stupid painted grin —
My soul is hard to seek!

The darkest magic locked me here,
Yet queen’s blood lies within.
My lover’s mistress was a seer
Who poisoned me to win.

An unknown plot to rule the throne
Emerged; I was naïve.
Their evil schemes I should have known —
They plotted to deceive.

Though they are now both cold and dead —
My vengeance still is not.
If my pursuer has not fled,
A lover I have caught.

If my new slave could not destroy
My soul’s one daemon keeper,
Then I would do it and enjoy
My present for the Reaper.

If it is truly a success
And my pure soul is fine,
My newest love I will possess —
His heart and soul is mine.

[Ashley Dioses is a writer of dark poetry and fiction from southern California.  Her debut collection of dark traditional poetry, Diary of a Sorceress, was released in 2017 from Hippocampus Press.  Her second poetry collection of early works, The Withering, is forthcoming from Gehenna and Hinnom Books this autumn.  Her poetry has appeared in Weird Fiction Review, Skelos, Weirdbook, Black Wings VI: New Tales of Lovecraftian Horror, and others.  She is an Active member in the HWA and a member of the SFPA.]