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