I need to recount all my demons, rename them as I desire.
It will be an ice-cold shower that send shivers down my spine.
The left hand's for spells and spoliage, the right is for healing art.
I'm dressing the black cloak slowly to the beat of my dying heart.
I'll call one Lilith and draw her and capture her deadly charm.
Her eyes are obscured by rough shadows. Her lips are obsidian.
Obsessed with her weird features. She's beautiful, there's no doubt.
From the depth of the dark inferno she's whispering: "Let me out".
18/03/2025
Let me out
© Copyright: Мари Вальтер, 2025
Свидетельство о публикации №125051905105
Свидетельство о публикации №125051905105
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