Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2013
those who say He
has horns
have never known His face
and, those that claim He
has hooves
have never sighed His name
for He, has eyes
that rival the morning sky,
a voice as soft as the
timid pulse,
and hands that’ll make you
quiver
yet He does ****
the wicked
because
He still haunts me
Jessica Saunders
Written by
Jessica Saunders
920
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems