Beautiful Grimm

----The Grim---

"Dear justice speak to me,"
Did she ever dream?
Of course not
It was just a job

Trapping soul in hell and laughing in their faces
Cold eyes of silver
As cutting jagged as her scythes
But one began to see her

A pair of young black eyes
A crown in flames
A prince of darkness
The next generation

Will she corrupt him?
He would gladly follow
And there are some who would love to watch
The chance for enemies to be weaken

The grim
The boy
The women's fury
Her cold eyes