- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The devils spawn
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Nestled between the ancient hills of Tara
during a retarded era
A story of legends goes on and on
About the devils spawn
It creeps and grunts
With skin badly burnt
With a destiny of hate, malice and mistrust
This devil child born beneath us
A witch hunt we shall rise
And the mother shall pay the price
She screams and begs us"please"
But the death of the child shall only appease
We chant and chant
At the evils descent
Burnt at the stake
Where the earth cannot remake
But for years to come
Our hearts beat like drums
When we hear the eerie cry
Of this devils spawn.
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