deepundergroundpoetry.com
Twisted Tales: What if Red Riding Hood was the wolf
Eyes, dark as the forest leaves
An evergreen
I taste the greed
On my lips,
It drips down my face
A crimson red
As my cloak
You’d think I am well fed
And I am soaked
With what’s left
My mind replaying the sweet memory
Of my latest kill
For the thrill that leaves its mark
An evergreen
I taste the greed
On my lips,
It drips down my face
A crimson red
As my cloak
You’d think I am well fed
And I am soaked
With what’s left
My mind replaying the sweet memory
Of my latest kill
For the thrill that leaves its mark
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