Heavenly Father! Don’t judge me on the sins I commit. Judge me on the love I withhold.
If you never get the chance to properly distribute love.
Your essence is luminescent, and bright, I just call you my moon light.
Your aura gives me euphoria-
On the blackest day. On a starless night.
I seen her weeping, must of been from a demon. She looked at me, and I saw no whites in her vision, just fathomless windows of sight.
She had swimming pool’s running down her face, which soon turned to riveting rivers, then to overflowing waves of oceans-
Raindrops falling on the ripples, she was melting away.
She died for beauty, I had a brief conversation, with one who had died for the truth. Her moon light began to diminish.
In this instant… I wouldn’t hesitate to die you… If that would just save you from pain.
I methodically severed, ripped off his head, turned to dust with the wind and withered away.
See all poetry for Richard Adame #BH5194