Her eyes red as fire.
Her favorite weapon is the piano wire.
Her hair as silver as the moon.
She always had a look of gloom.
She kills for no reason, no matter the season.
Her heart full of pain.
As her victims twitch in strain.
What water will wash these bloody hands?
She sits all alone.
In her confined little home.
Away from the world.
Such as the life of a bounty hunter.
She bows her head and cries.
For no one cares if she dies.
She’s known to all as the girl who never smiles.
She is Iris the tortured one.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
beautiful. i realy like it