Crimson Eyes
#8 of Journey of the Shadow Archive
Her eyes were like pools of crimson red blood,
Even the Death shall glare into their beauty.
Her skin was like the snow unstained by mud;
People said she was a broken cutie.
Her voice was the whisper of a stranger,
Like the organ of a graceful angel.
People said she was the kind of danger;
And she was a lady that was baneful.
Her hair was the colour of a great flame;
Some say it was the same texture of cloth.
It was the same beauty as her true name,
Some say she was from a witches' mad broth.
In truth she was in fact just a sad belle,
When she lived in such a frightful pale hell.