𝕹𝖔 𝖘𝖔𝖞 𝖒𝖆𝖑𝖆,

𝖘𝖔𝖑𝖔 𝖘𝖔𝖞 𝖌ó𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖆.

Bebo del romanticismo:

hoy victoriana,

mañana entregada al negro.

Rompo lo oficial,

desbordo sentimientos,

persigo los versos

de Mary Shelley

y de Lord Byron.

Me enredo en la noche

de Edgar Allan Poe,

como Nosferatu,

respiro el aire oscuro,

vuelo como el Cuervo,

y en el crepúsculo

escucho música densa.

Absorbo la vida

buscando la luz

en plena oscuridad.

No soy mala,

no:

solo

soy

gótica.

𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑,

𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖌𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖈.

I drink from Romanticism:

today Victorian,

tomorrow surrendered to black.

I break with the official,

I overflow with feeling,

I chase the verses

of Mary Shelley

and Lord Byron.

I tangle myself in the night

of Edgar Allan Poe,

like Nosferatu,

I breathe the dark air,

I fly like the Raven,

and in the twilight

I listen to dense music.

I absorb life

searching for light

in the heart of darkness.

I am not evil,

no:

only

am

gothic.

𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖓𝖔𝖙 𝖊𝖛𝖎𝖑,

𝕴 𝖆𝖒 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖌𝖔𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖈.

I drink from Romanticism:

today Victorian,

tomorrow surrendered to black.

I break with the official,

I overflow with feeling,

I chase the verses

of Mary Shelley

and Lord Byron.

I tangle myself in the night

of Edgar Allan Poe,

like Nosferatu,

I breathe the dark air,

I fly like the Raven,

and in the twilight

I listen to dense music.

I absorb life

searching for light

in the heart of darkness.

I am not evil,

no:

only

am

gothic.