ππ πππ ππππ ππ π ππππππ π₯
We walk through velvet corridors,
Neon sins glow above silence, π
and every glance becomes a silent gamble.
No mercy π¬ No saints.
Just the thrill of fatum βοΈShattering fortunes and staining souls with smoke π¬
πππ πππππππ ππππππππππ
In every card they deal, β ($)
A future dies π¬ Left the griefs β
In their hearts [ .π€.]
Peccatum est dulce in initio,
Amarum in fine βοΈ
Sin is sweet at first, bitter at the end
This is Demonic imperium β
where roulette decides destinies,
And whispers cut deeper than knives π