Darkside

I feel as if my eyes have kneeled down all your demons,

while my lips metamorphosed them into divine effigies

ruling and making your soul be a servant of my wishes

for I've let your mouth nourish with my cute Darkside

for all monsters, those zombies that wear beauty's mask

to suffer fully, terrified by the boom-boom of your pulse.

I feel as if my eyes have kneeled down all your demons.

Now, your royal creature comforts me from all directions

with your soul, — a fireplace with hotly and spicy sound

of the sandalwood and cèdre through books' rustle, while

their foliage, the lifeblood of a tasty lachrymose wine

is revived in coffee beans, for nobody to feel silly with it.