EVIL ANGEL - LORENZO PAZZAGLIA

In my heart, a clear, pure mint rustles in the whisper of the wind. In my eyes, the sails are unfurled, seas of whiskey to sail and lands of absinthe to explore. I draw my sword and find justice in the arms of a sweet vanilla myrrh, my rebellious soul finally appeased. And so the night falls, bringing peace. I, the warrior, rest on a bed of flowers and wood: tomorrow is another day.