A Voice Poem by Pere Risteski

On the dusk at night fall
crumped in the cold
I heard a voice:
„Come, come to me"!

On the crossroad
a woman, dandified
reached her hands
from behind the blinds,
on the decripid framing
on the windows
to grab, an unexperienced, young
with goggled eyes
sunk in delirium
I heard a voice:
„Come, come to me! "

As a fly cought in a spiders net
knocks to her on the net
spellbound from the advanced
civilization
luck reached its goal
a headed for that voice
-Now, you're mine
innosent heart
from me you will never be saved.