She paints a picture of herself

A lovely and beautiful artwork she made

But all of its colors have fade

As I saw it lying on her bed
She painted full of emotions

That was her painting has shown

Open your heart to know

What the picture want to show
She paints her picture using her blood

A razor as her brush

She painted the wrist of her hand

And blood started to rush
She did it with no regrets

Until she had nothing to breathe

Tears flow in her eyes once more

Now she is alive no more

She died valiantly without lament

Her masterpiece recieves acclamation

Behind the tragic picture is melancholy

of a heart so weak and depressed

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