The touch of blue smoke,

When she speaks of the fog.

Where the islands were full of coconuts

Have now become dried raisins.

Burned by sins,

Her heart gave a prayer

When the soul was on its knees.

The oil for the blessed was cherished,

As the bridge collapsed.

She stared into his soul,

And realized the wasteland was on the other side,

So she gave herself a new color.

Her insides are now royal blue,

Pushing emotions like the waters.