I hold a bowl filled with blood.
I see my path by the moon's light.
My innermost passion's to hide,
My intricacy's summoned up.
An ominous and sombre mystery
By the reign of strangeness.
A morbid reality,
A poetic ruthlessness.
Night, by this night I live,
Coldness of my breath.
Striving, chivalry -
My occult mordacity.
Inner passion, unknown to them,
Inner life is villainy.
In my ring is a poisoned gem,
In my face is written immortality.
I catch and lure and intoxicate,
I bite and drink your blood!
An elegant guide to the gate
Of the realm of the dead.
Look into my eyes
Of the cold purposefulness,
Vespertine demise,
Eerie consciousness.
Mystique
© Copyright: Оксана Малефисента Тихомирова, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112070406133
Свидетельство о публикации №112070406133
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