A/N: Once again I have written a not so pretty poem. Leave some CONSTRUCTIVE criticism/ your opinion if you would like.
P.S. I do not own fatal frame 2 that inspired me to write this. I DO however own this poem.
Crimson Butterfly
It's coming
Can't you hear it?
Of course, but,
You don't fear it.
Yet.
It is Pretty,
Disturbing,
All the while, alluring.
You march on towards it in the night.
Under a silver moon
Marking the devils hour
The clock will chime soon
And still you do not cower?
The creature is blood red,
No, Crimson.
In its grasp you'll
Find your eternal prison.
Fluttering, in and out of children's dreams
It approaches.
You move closer still
Your limbs
No longer have any will.
Still, you stand your ground
What are you trying to prove?
Such a pretty little statue you are,
Silently screaming, unable to move.