She's written with crimson red blood,
Unceasingly flowing
From her invisible cuts.

Dressed with carefully picked enthralling wordsー
Seemingly fitting, seemingly perfect
But as you read between the lines,
You'll be wrapped with her gloomy wilting vines.

She could either be a riddle
And leave you bewildered,
Or she could be an answer
And shed light upon you.

For she's a sad poem
But beautifully written.

©kg