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your somber songs, as you were dancing inchmeal
your words the ones who came out of those venomous lips
they were spells, for your garden blossoms to grow, for your hair to get more flossy
those yarns wich came out of your head like those sanguinary ideas
putrid witch, all wicked, all them others that are with you, the bonfire all for yours
chastisement wich you deserve, for so many drained hearts, their leather are now your boots
blasted woman, no speech will salve you
entire your chorus, devils chantings, amethyst eyes, raven bones, dead skin, you must be devils daughter
stifle, excruciation, agony, all I harken through your skinny walls
the lass who hovers in her marble and mahogany chamber
fragmented glass in the ground, in her feet there are lacerations
overt and vulky eyes, I can witness the thunder in them
I can distinguish the electricity running inside them
her tousled hair, her well overt eyes, mandating me to get in, live in her dusky flame
parky skin, pale, like lifeless
liqueur, in wich you drown every night, you dance, you yell yet you're absent
dewdrops in your eyes, charm me with those mephetics brews
your frock's aye black yet infantine, hulking boots
deadly beverages, of sparkling colours with brimful foam
you, queen of the toads and ravens, vest me your hand, for me to kiss it
let the last screws to fall from your deranged head
and let me share that insane mind of yours