LittlePoisonCupcake

The bat lived in the bookcase, all covered with dust He loves to read the stories, for reading is a must He sits there all night, just reading by himself Wondering if another bat will ever join the him on the shelf.

My spirit, like the ashes, is as light as the wind. Dark like storm clouds and black as night, holding no impurities, and with a fire inside, it lets the skies carry it into oblivion.

She's made of Arsenic, I love her poison touch. And even though she's dead, she gives me such a rush.

Frankenstein was alone on Valentine's day. No monster would love him, yet he wanted love anyway. His bride had lied, and ran off with Mr. Hyde, Leaving poor Frankie alone on Valentine's day.