It looks at me with 3
Black Eyes.
I feel more than dead and more than alive.
I am more free and I am a slave
of my own choice, my last wish.
I can go away, but I won’t, will I?
Because I chose NOT TO BE instead of
That is not a question for me.

Dulce periculum is long gone now,
And what’s left is to go ad meliora.
This fancy dusty words make me feel heroic.
And I am ready to follow the steps of The Paradise Lost
To find my little lost paradise.
With no apples.

I have no motive to take my own life,
But it feels sweet to think that I am more mad than the others.
Madness is some kind of a sinful desire, if you chose to be mad.

And so I eat my 2 eyes and leave the third one.
It’s for dramatic effect, it’s the final act of my tragedy.
So take me, my deadly nightshade,
My fruitful Belladonna.