A serpent bites hard my heart

as I remember the betrayal.


The sins of the flesh and the soul

makes me bleed, infernal.


Your cruel red mouth

is like a venomous rose from the mire.


No thorne go as deep as the rose´s

they say, and love is more cruel than lust.


The serpents tongue

catch fire in a flame.


Passion slayes

with unexpected pain.


The sweet poisonous kiss

has a subtile taste of death.


In a chamber of thine

the sins becomes prayers.


On a bed of torment

the pain melts to tears.


Languishing wet eyelashes arises

as I bleed, internal.


Bloodstains leaves a trail

on the blossoms.


In a garden where hands reach heaven

from hell.