A man was searching for the whore of tales

To destroy this heinous creature,
But his secret was gently unveiled,
Cause she saw his beautiful features.

He was beautiful not with his youth,
Not with those rainy resinous hairs,
But with his strength his right to dispute
As a precious divinity heir.

Cause for long he did know her power
To discover uncountable treasures
And his masters had goal to devour
All her beauty - meretricious pleasures.

She was innocent, she was seeing his soul
Through his eyes, which were black stormy cloud.
And she knew that his body's just bowl
Which they'll break with a noisy applaud.

She was wise, cause she saw his blood
Which was flowing into his veins
And she knew it is not only mud,
Which is ment to be washed with the rain.

And she loved with her power and glory,
Which she put as a gift in his feet.
She created the end of the story
How the world will for ever proceed.

As a gratitude he turned to Boreigh
And he left his demon's intentions.
He creates in her eyes every day
Tiny sparcles of naughty temptation.