Beseiged by love I fear not
The coldness of the steel
Incoming from your eyes.
I feel with soul itself
That your stare is hot,
It has some strange appeal
And so much disguise
Is placed in vacant lots.
I feel your heart’s distress,
Metabolism’s at high.
“Confess, confess, confess!” -
Appeal your vacant eyes.
“Kneel to my splendor, slave!
Surrender to my lust!
You’re just a simple male,
So easy made to trust!”
Observing your vain tries,
I stand up, leave the room.
Go catch some little mice,
Don’t try to catch a wolf…
Beseiged by love
© Copyright: Польский Сергей Игоревич, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111092001085
Свидетельство о публикации №111092001085
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