This is a rhyme that I wrote inspired to the style of those of Tim Burton, though unfortunately i'ts not up to even a stretch of similarity.
I never studied singing, so it's likely that you find me out of tune but I do not know why my ears make me the bad joke to make my voice sound listenable.

The little match girl

Crime's son 
painted crimson
he hangs victims
with umbellical cord,
orchestra of screams
directs with a sword.
Crime's son
painted crimson
drinks blood
hidden in the wood,
has ripped face
a smile full of grace.
Crime's son
painted crimson
children devours
their flavour he adores,
wears a crown of bones
in his chest lie stones.
Crime's son
painted crimson
his sorrows of thief
throws down the cliff,
his thirst of murder
roars like a thunder.

Arwen Wraith