Open your eyelids and watch
Your bloody, renounced body.
Convolutions and wounds that won't help a troche,
Your price became so shoddy.
You are coiling, you fight in convulsions,
Sucking your own blood.
Your death is a compulsion,
And there is not a saving bud.
The bones turned into strings
Which cut you from within.
An eternity of sufferings
Is the payment for your mortal sin.
Mortal Sin
© Copyright: Эмилия Роуз, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114090506775
Свидетельство о публикации №114090506775
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