A little drabble poem about Klaus's thoughts as he saw Violet on the gurney in book 8.
Disclaimer:I do not own ASOUE
Here lays my sister Violet
Her hair matted like thorns
Covering her eyes
So I mourn
Her hand nearly reaches the floor
Trailing like it can barely cope
With the strain of holding on
And so I lose all hope
And now off we go
The rust on the knife
Reminding all of dried blood
The blood of your life
A.N. To creepy? A little bit OTT? Please tell me in a nicely worded review.