I know the faces of the devil –
We've met before, we've shaked our hands
Right at the bar, where demons revel,
In foggy smoke of drunken sense;
Where scotch is relished by the evil,
In pure bitterness and flame,
Where sin and innocence are equal,
Or lust and wishes – all the same.
Eyelashes, like a bar in prison,
Like dark impenetrable gates,
Were guarding looks, insane and hissing,
Or maybe just an empty space –
What has been lurking there for ages
Nobody is aware of. Still.
But I believe: those fallen angels
Just had no choice nor fate nor will.
I saw the faces of the devil,
We've met before – so many years...
His desperate eyes were full of heaven.
He cried and prayed in bleeding tears.