Bewitched
You"re almost perfect in your second skin.
You"re almost perfect in your fatal incarnation,
Your shining glory, unbelievable salvation, 
And, most of all, in this delirious damnation, 
In your protection from each deadly sin,
In mystic candle lights, sweet smoke of incense, 
In burning blooddrops, in blackouts, in obsession,
In your chaotic dreams, desires and intentions...
Oh God!... I hide no secrets from you, but my passion:
I feed this screaming crow from my hands. 
I speak your language and expose the truth:
It"s you who helped me to creep out from desolation, 
Who cut the utter dark with glimpse of inspiration... 
I am not blasphemous, not captured by temptation:
I"m almost perfect and bewitched, like you.