Virgin Ninja (4)

   
   "Virgin Ninja (4)"
  
   It was merely a dream.  A night of escape into something unexplained, really.  We aren't at the STAR TREK stage just yet, still cutting on people, damaging tissue and sending the vibration of SHOCK into the entire corporeal being save we enter through the sacred spots with surgical sublimity.
   Joanna Blanc was hardcore steel.  She was hurt in life, very badly, and sought the boom of justice thirsted for by Batman himself; as a result, she was the wacky ninja lady.
   But this summer-soothing night, the jasmine painting hues of covers, gently and lightly, over her box shorts' aspects, a Wonder Woman T oddly decorating her middle-aged body, and she fell into the laser of burgundy, knowing every honorable war is a just war; however, control your power, and don't go all soup nazi, yet sometimes the adversary is nasty and barbaric, giving you no way out save to go all Joan of Arc on their ass, but she got no Sacrament of Reconciliation at the end of blood on the battlefield--no insult, she is an axiomatic Saint, her candle lit before time itself; still, even a Saint is second unto Christ, for He is the vine, and we are the branches; nevertheless, we are gods too, as Scripture proclaims.