She Wishes Me (To Hell)

It used to be that she wished me well.
Now she wishes for my death knell.
Her words filled with venomous vernacular vexing vixen when her diatribe elicits no response.
Ask her what would appease her, and her reply is that my damnation is all she wants.
But what she does not know is that my mental is well prepared.
So if her wish is to wish my soul to Hell, then I will sit there until it snows; this man is not scared!

 - by the Greatest Poet Alive