The fiery chasms give birth,
to an image so pure,
to a tiny young smurf,
christened liqueur...
Why did Jesus choose to colour my skin,
as blue as the bluest of skies,
I curse thee who blesseth my kin,
just between you and I...
Holy mother of Satan,
flailing, detail thinning,
all i do is hate 'em,
your son, laughing, grinning,
hell on earth has developed this age,
heaven a myth,
death you so crave...
Yet I am no different,
from those who wander alone,
the tears people shed,
we're on our own,
together we die alone,
alone, we die together...
Holy Mother of God,
i see the green return,
I lived to see the day,
when lucipher eternally burns,
calm, smiling,
a face forgotten,
ignorant to demonic riling...
my blue skin,
my white hat,
im ina happy, but wont take your crap,
its whats inside that haunts,
monsters goblins, demons alike,
sexy exterior of which she flaunts...
January, 2004
Peet.