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Awake in the night, a strange feeling of cold and fear,

Something runs inside her veins, lascivious emetic lust,

Jerking quickly the bed covers, horror drawn inside her eyes,

Why to be her? Why to be killed? She is trembling full of panic.

The insanity of the moment, a howling splits the silence,

Running in the dark corridor, the first convulsions have started up,

Blood licking out of her mouth, as she is walking to the bath,

Stumbling on the walls, falling down daubed her face with vomited blood.

Your empty body, immovable on the floor,

You have lack of life, you are almost dead,

Drops on the mirror, eternal sleep,

Rejecting desire, vomit the blood.

Something pushes her bowels out, the lust is vast to vomit them,

Her face is already pale, she soils death from her putrid mouth,

The lavatory tinctured with blood, the lungs are filled up with vomiting

Amok for the life that goes away, tremor for this throwing up.

As it is dawning everything is over, her corpse is lying on the floor,

In her mouth some wiped intestines, out of it splashes of blood,

She wore on her face the mask of horror, some drops still slide on the mirror,

Her head is plunged deeply in the blood, the veins have hugged the eyeballs.