Why do you ache like this, my friend?
You always can deny all this, my friend.
You can be great, sophisticated, conscious
And throw it all to hell, my friend.
What is the matter here, my son?
You should be deeply witched, my son.
You’ve always been so calm and quiet
And now obsessed you are, my son.
What is so wrong with you, my aunt?
Aren’t you still young, beloved, my aunt?
Don’t drink this poison, it’ll kill you
But then again – drink on, my aunt.
Why do I have to ask so many questions?
It’s I who put their very souls on fire.
I feel so weak, ran out of all passions
Since I’ve become a damned Vampire.
A vampire
© Copyright: Алан Гацунаев, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107101401573
Свидетельство о публикации №107101401573
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