"Hell has no fury"

In shadows deep, where whispered winds begin, Hell has no fury like a woman scorned. Her heart, once warm, now turns to icy sin, And in her gaze, the fire of wrath is borned. Thy cruel deceit has marred her gentle grace, Her love was true, but thus betrayed by thee. In anger's blaze, she'll seek a vengeful place, Where justice dances, wild and fierce and free. Her spirit's wrath, a storm upon the sea, Where thunder cracks and lightning rends the night, No mortal strength can quell her fury's plea, For scorned, she burns with fierce, unyielding might. Thus heed this truth, as shadows start to fade: A woman’s ire, when thwarted, none can tame. For in her heart, a tempest fierce is made, And hell itself is kinder than her flame.