squalid elve

The hair turquoise her system Burnt thru time
itself on drums recording, shells marking,
   notches on the staff she found free of crime
   hers to bludgeon, vengeance partaking

Hers to tenderize, her hair bluish-green-oxide
Hers to mesmerize, her eyes empty, memed;
   scalps were invented to receive her peroxide
   Astral Karma was her Theme

Her skin the wind envied, her lips the sun cried,
Her ass all mountains withered:
    Her ledge eagles fled, after vanquished gods died,
     Her notches, silvered hairs, snakes slithered<>

Never was her aquamarine following solid,
Often those elves found her, squalid