Tsarina Anastasia the cruel

There is nothing better than seeing your eyes,
As it fills up with love, servitude and fear,
When I stand over you and tell you: arise,
So I can push you to the ground again my dear.

Looking at you on the ground covered in mud,
Gently smiling and teasing you for being mucky,
Offering my help in return of your sweet blood,
And questioning myself: is it you or me whos lucky?

You hear my name as I say: Tsarina Anastasia,
Suddenly making you shiver and shake,
As your brain is experiencing cataplasia,
On the way for you to eternally break.

Under my heels your place is everlasting,
Where I can keep an eye on my possession,
Treat you with love and cure your fasting,
Offer you the salvation to your depression.

Make you yearn for more and more,
When I get the whip and paint on your back,
Making you my ultimate little whore,
Falling in love with the sound of the whip crack.