Enchantress.

The silk sheets are stained
every blood drop reminds me
of what we did last night
with that stiletto cutting
my bond with redemption.

I still can feel the innocence
leaving this small room
filled with pleasant remorses
how many holes happiness have?

I don't think she has a such name
but I call her Enchantress
'cause I saw her dancing
on the wire of my bashful desires.

The silk sheets are opened
like the petals of a rose
showing the prettiest rose
she smiled mischievously
evoking the secret side
of my sexuality.

I still can smell the hearts
we broke to have fun
it's as rotten as our fantasy
what's the recipe to the madness?

I don't think she's ashamed
even if there's blush on her cheeks
I know she's enjoying the mistery
from hurt and being hurt.

The silk sheets are on the floor
I blow a kiss to the emptiness.

I saw her dancing on the wire
of my bashful desires.