Hidden behind merciful shadows, beyond the cruel daylight,
living to hunt and kill, we are the... damned children of the night.
Dragging our immune existence through thousands of centuries
and from dusk to dawn we suffer from our immortality.
Hosts contaminate our tombs and crosses burn our skin,

Today they've found another one,
Lifeless on the cold subway-floor.
His face was turned to his back ... -
The same way the other died before.
Drain the mortals to their last convulsion

Ivy kissed the shadows,
As mo(u)rning lusts for dew,
She with lips of sweetest pain,
Lies in wait for you.
With the dawn she went away,

Shivering with ... awe ... and delight:
"Here is my throat", he said,
As he bowed his head ... in silence ... to him.
Behold his white flesh ... shining in the velvet of darkness.
Take him now, and he will be yours ... -

Now and then I'm scared, when I seem to forget how sounds become words or even sentences ... No, I don't speak anymore and what could I say, since no-one is there and there is nothing to say ...
So, I prefer to lie in darkest silence alone ... listening to the lack of light, or sound, or someone to talk to, for something to share ...- but there is no hope and no-one is there.
No, no, no ...- not one living soul and there is nothing (left) to say, in darkness I lie all alone by myself, sleeping most of the time to endure the pain.
I am not breathing a word, I haven't spoken for weeks and yet the mistress inside me is (secretly) straining her ears. But there is no-one, and it seems to me at times that with every passing hour another word is leaving my mind ...
I am the mistress of loneliness, my court is deserted but I do not care. The presence of people is ugly and cold and something I can neither watch nor bear.