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Holy-

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Your heart so far, mind, spirit, soul..
Holy
By the grave I saw the storms
I crave the solemn, saintly Santos
Demon Santos without a voice
Worship Lucifer by choice
I was a waterspout and you a hell
And its eyes have all the frosting
I have dreamed of the saints
Through which came revering, revering, revering
They are perfumed from unseen paints
By the grave I saw the worshipers
I felt compelled to sniff the tornadoes
Suddenly, I heard some describing
HolyAMEN


6/10/19
Copyright © | Year Posted 2019

Poem

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