автор: thy_cure

I want to drink from the devil’s cup
And taste the rancid sup
Of the reddish-black wine,
Which I will soon call mine.
But if I drink it all,
I will surely have to go
To the burning hell,
In which lots of people fell.
But if I have just one sup
From the golden devil’s cup,
Will God open his arms wide,
In which my soul can safely hide.
And I want to kiss his hand
Because someday my clock will run out of sand
And then I will understand my mistakes,
Which I swear I won’t ever make
Again but it will be too late
For my heart to change its fate.