THE BLACK SUN
I know, you'll find me, when the shadows come alive,
When northern winds will rush under the skin, like hot sharp knife,
You'll be mine only for the moment and won't back...
The sun, that's lighting our sky, is black.
Your body's closer, than I wished, but your soul's not,
And poems in your book for me you'll write by blood...
You're feeding fire and you're playing with the rain:
I told my God I want to be torged in your chain,
As it is freaky pleasure - to become your slave,
To see, how you will throw the flowers on my grave,
To see your smile in the rays of this black sun...
And any death will be a life, that's just begun,
And every riddle, strangely written on the hand,
Will be so simple and so clear to understand.