I was looking through my Black Butler books and I was reading when Madam Red died and all of a sudden I had an epiphany about writing a short poem about her and her angst. So here's to Madam Red!
Dear me,
It seems I have lost myself in my hatred for others and for my sister.
I despise her child, my nephew.
I despise the women who whore themselves to others.
I despise all.
And yet on my last few minutes of life, I have realized I could never despise my nephew.
He gave me a feeling of warmth and happiness that no one else could give.
But now I'm dead so these feelings don't matter anymore.
I just wish I could tell him that I didn't despise him no more.
I have all these regrets that are just buried inside.
But now I'm dead so I might as well wish them goodbye.
...I am Madam Red, the women who regrets all...
Please review :)