Indigo Jellyfish

Your sea is full of drowning, stingy by your tentacles gullible ... Your bedding - male corpses ... young people, brave men and even old men. And you laugh ... You think you're dancing, to receive a reward again - the head of the forefather Baptist ... Who will believe that you are Salome - so innocent, so desirable? Your hair is sapphire harpies, filled with poison black ... And your gaze makes you dead, to keep silent with his face in the quarters of your marriage. Your husband, a merchant of the horn, has fun with your whims ... But he wants more and more quality bodies - the heads of the Chosen and Faithful, like the head of John the Baptist ... And you, ready to please him, you even love to overestimate ... And you go to pick the victims ... The dead, they are looking for themselves ... But the living ones are avoiding your way and the deadly game of your tentacles. Look, you got something to pet ... to put your Butterfly in herbarium, is a thrill of fake electricity and music for your ice dance ... How only your fur bristles, anticipating pre-death moans ... A lot of people hanged in your hair ... Many drowned in the whisper, inviting them to look to your sight of a monster ... and froze - eternal statues of salt ... Or maybe mud? Do not get drunk with their blood! I'll find you ... I know where you're hiding. From your hole, I'll fuck you ... Your cut head will speculate with the Fire devouring ... of what has been said. And your snakes, dead hornets, will be fertilizer in the men's legs ... You will not meet the strong, but the weak will become strong ... She died, and Salome died ... Forests in the midst of a fire ... It did not overcome the Savior, and His Sword is in it! The Medusa Gorgon has grown ... The snakes' hair in the dust spread! Her eyes will not be remembered anymore ... The word, empty will not return ...!