In a black cylinder, gray at the temples,
I was, in Dol's grave, with a cane in his hands.
I was, by habit, and two of the vampire from hell rose,
Plate, clone, in black frock-coat, faded soul.
I understand the anxiety, 't allow them to land,
In a black cylinder, gray at the temples.
The body shivers, running at me,
Hands, in fear, I tremble.
And I've added a black coat, it flew,
And I realized, do not have to walk at night.
And my heart was beating that I took off down the hill,
And realized that young, I will give them a head start.
Chirik V.V. CENTURIES h 00:10