O Santa Muerte, beautiful lady of darkness

Your chiming laughter fills my arteries

And mind with spiders, and fear multiplies

Soft vermillion lips set in a terrifying grin

Inviting me to not just partake in but also enjoy sin

The friendless, the lonely and the frightened gone mad

In your shadows find their places rich and grand

An utter abandonment of the responsibilities of life

In your realm there is only peace and moral sacrifice

Madness, pure gladness in my Goddess’ world

Fingernails touching faces, noses pressed to waters that board

Ghastly scenes and terrored dreams of falling down imaginary staircases

Then arising awake, realising there is no escape from rot in mental places

Fungal, frozen, fetid fetishes of the heart

That is true darkness, the lack of light is only a part

Of that black mirror we hold up to the world and ourselves selecting

Only the prettier things in Dorian Grey’s portrait and defending

The little bit of darkness residing within each person’s well

By presuming the creature down there cannot climb out of it’s hell

But if we were to drop down that ladder and descend the icy stair

We’d find that there was only a young child in a poor and humble lair

Rocking themselves and crying beneath cobblestones and ivy

That no one wanted to play, a voice quavering and tiny

My friend went away, she cries and she moans

Why did she leave me all alone?

In the core of everyone’s darkness lies child in a lot of pain

Dear Lady I call on you please let it not be in vain

Release the children from their suffering and set them on the path

From Tartaros to Elysium where they will live again in good health

For My Lady, you are the Goddess of death and madness

But through the rivers of life you also release from sadness

Whoever’s whispers came before, you judge a soul’s worth on it’s merits

And whatever it is that comes ahead there will be no more regrets

The past is gone, dissolved into inky black night

Never again will shadows and ghosts give me fright

This I pray, and by you I am blessed

By your cold, caring hands I am caressed

O Santa Muerte, beautiful lady of darkness