I see the loving blood
ooze down between those fair legs.
And on the top two hands
wind with tenderness and malice.
In the empty eyes I see
pure drops of the soul.
The body is now quiet.
The head turns in fear.
I see something white
peeping in the dark recesses.
And water\'s running out.
Onto the lips it\'s sliding now.
I see a black raven
emerge from deadly heavens.
I hear a pallid swain
utter fervent words for love.
I see unruly tresses
intertwine in infidelity.
The soul keeps on being quiet
and awaits old age to come.

Marin Lazarov