There it stands tall and small,
Skinny to the bones,
With pale glass skin,
Looking straight ahead..
Dark cold beady eyes,
With radiant red lips sealed the lies,
Oriented clothes tied tightly by the waist,
Hair in a black bun...
Holding a golden cup,
Where at night she whispers to it,
If listen closely you might hear her silent screams,
Just be aware of the beauty it holds..
Another chilling tale of the Doll,
That haunts my every movement,
Who watches me,
Whenever I tried to sleep...