In Octoikh abysses

No more clinking glasses with you,
I will not play more games in your shadows.
You are scary like solitude,
And I am drowning in Baudelaire now.

And before - in Octoikh abyss.
But you look at me not from aside
Powerless are Masonic pyramides,
You're forever - the eye - from inside.
 
And you look at me from my own heart
And from there you twist me and call
I was engulfed by Baudelairian art,
He's like brother of Balmont,  like knife.

Just remember: the Lord loves you dearly
And for you were the passions of Christ,
So it is in His Blood - as in Miracle -
All your passions and sins are washed out.

And I want you to become a nun
And that you will be praying next to me
And your soul will be opening wide
So that all in your soul will be seen.

We together we'll live in a castle.
And a cloister is palace in core.
Only God in our hearts we'll let come in,
In the interfluve of our souls.