I put on a mask
In iron I dress
I cover my scars
I build up a fence
I set clever traps
I sharpen my spears
I shovel a ditch
I fill it with fears
I fill it with beasts
And blood-thirsty ghosts
Don’t try to come near
Don’t dare to cross
No man yet survived
No man yet escaped
One fate
Wait them all
They die at the gate.
Their shields
Their swards
Their arrows and bows
I turn into gold
And melt in a pot
I make tiny birds
With mist in the meadow
I send them as gifts
To the newly-wed widows.
The evil witch
© Copyright: Анна Лия, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №215091200321
Свидетельство о публикации №215091200321
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