Bathed in Red

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(A poem for Madame Red)

Broken woman, filled with rage
Others get rid of what she couldn't save.
Torn by sorrow, struck by pain.
Woman took actions she can't erase.
Now here, at her final stand
Gazing sadly, nephews fate is out of hand.
"I will not yield this time!" She had said.

And now, crimson reaper bathed her in red.

Her final moments, she heard Vincent wield.
The colour of spider lilies blaze across the field.
And she smiled and whispered
"Vincent, I will not yield"

The Assassin of Red [Black Butler]Opowieści tętniące życiem. Odkryj je teraz