Maldorora

Momentum,
in front of me when you pass
me too, in my thoughts
anything nice
I'm going through it with horror,
to my hell your goodness
I'm tired of burning.

In my soul
he enters her
ironically your beauty,
he hypnotizes the angel
and the beast tickles
that burns, thirsts

to conquer you.

How do great loves end?
Where do beautiful flowers bloom?
How are beautiful stars born?

What do old people remember and cry about?

All the beauty my eyes see,
so much malice flows through my heart.