Woman in red
Late at night, she sat contemplating
by her Oak-wood table
Running her fingers over a bowl
Of blood that oozed from
The body of her beloved
Her dismal features
Attracted a ravenous bird
Who perched by the edge of
The inebriated bowl
He dared not query whose
Blood it belonged to
Her pale white fingers
Grasping the other end
In a tight embrace
Late at night, sat a woman in red
Grieving for her darling,
She killed in dread
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