Awarded a Certificated of violence, it obtained a triple X
Film censor themselves, supplied the bloody special effects,
Unsympathetic to the truth, but one wants to die rich
This is a life by misadventure, well isn’t that a bitch!
She’s overdosed on love and is careening down that slop
Her perception floored because she’s dinning out on hope,
But taboo with a Target – injects a lawless high
For Theodora Cyclone, was a secret sex spy.
One hundred successful missions, but this one really dashed
A beautiful relationship flourished, while the espionage crashed;
They would together bond, through burning lust and heat
In her little luxury flat – in Upper Bedford Street,
Falling for the victim, caused mayhem with the plan
In conflict with her conscience, she’s does the best she can.
Of intermit lesions twixed a ambassador and a spy
Fires PowerCrats paranoia, as they claw at sky,
Pillow talk from the asylum, could cripple an economy
Cos her paymasters reside – in the House of Pure Autonomy.
Exclusion to survival was deemed to be her fate
So indulgent to their disgruntlement, expire the reprobate!
Now the ambassador was history, but let him flee to hide
Make this job appear credible, just like a suicide.
With heart felt defiance, it’s a higher price she paid
She took her life they said, with a rusty razor blade.
But if the truth could cry out, from its dank macabre grave
She was silenced by PowerCrats; there was nothing left to save.
Editorial shock column, what a controversial harlot
Water in the bath ran red, a deeper shade of scarlet,
The rumour she knew Nogod – nursed predictions of doom
And the testimonies of victims, would see the vultures loom.
Burn one more dark secret as it flickers through the night
And the inmates will determine, how to put the world right,
There’s blood on her lips with no where left to run
Inform the client post haste, that the “job has been done”.
Her story has been rewritten, to celluloid and stage play
Theodora’s memoirs are besmirched; truth has gone astray,
The coroner’s report, was one thousand pages long
Said her intentions were innocent, so something went wrong?
And did the verdict of the inquest, apportions no blame
Called the Disinformation Requiem – it’s a consequences game.
