Her Canvas

She likes to paint on her canvas,
It is oh so pearly white.
She always paints the most,
In the calmness of the night.

Her crimson blood is the paint,
A silver blade her brush.
Painting is the only way to clear her mind,
When everything is in a rush.

She paints away on her canvas,
Turning everything to red.
Never does she paint to much,
To make it do she is dead.

Every night she paints,
It leaves makes that will never fade away.
Her white canvas forever scarred,
You can see them every day.

She likes to paint on her canvas,
It is oh so pearly white.
She always paints the most,
In the calmness of the night.