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Thelma
From the dark. The eye
The ears from the lie
Toung from the fire
Nose by desire
Lips from the cold
Hair from the woods
Teeth as in the rock
Hard once it locked
So evil so pure
A poison and a cure
Hands of the gods
Weak or strong
At just different odds
The legs walking wrong
A golem they create
With the world so against
By fate or through bet
Killed them all inside
The golem that they grew
All their life that they hide
Survived only a few
Heart from the ground
It beats without a sound
The soul from the grave
From those who fought to save
The newborn, the unknown
Only that, that the son
It?s a being, its many
Living in all, for eternity
Never dying or would it fade
Dwelling in the shade
Less its over, less thy stop
All the nonsense to overlap
Coz it?s a poison but their cure
As the few see evil while others pure.