Talking to Myself

You may freeze in his arctic-blue eyes.
I'm not one to fall for an angelic look, though.
I'm a devil inside appearing pretty and nice.
I'll drag him into the whirpool, and he'll never know.

He's way too innocuous, pure, so out of this world.
I see him staring at me, as though I was honey.
As though he wanted to try me, to taste me,
To make me his girl...

but I am the devil.

Devils never make friends,
Neither they dance at sunrise.
Devils curse, not pray, and devils
Have no affairs with seraphs.

25 окт. 2024 г.