Looking daily over shattered pieces of what my heart used to be
That apparitions that keep me wide awake at midnight
Fantasies of piercing knives and dripping blood
Blood of dried tears
Flooding my crystal black wounds
Wounds made by blue-eyed, muscular, talented, daring demons
Looking over my pure loving hatred
Hatred of men and men to be
The essence of black vengeance
Vengeance of the death of an angel, the birth of a lying demon
Renaissance des demons
Demons are real
Demons are men
