Forgive Me If I Don’t Believe You

Forgive me if I don’t believe in angels.
Once I saw scars of a broken wing
and thought yours was a sky with no sun
Little did I know your hands did the deeds
leaving your heart black to break waters.
You “disvirgined” oceans before rain fell from heaven.

Forgive me if I don’t believe there’s heaven
once I thought in between the legs of angels
with barren thirst for flow of waters.
For you to reach heaven, you need a wing,
a clear piece of land that grows good deeds.
Even at that, just give me an ocean, white waters and a sun.

If my believe does come with a sun
then know that I believe in art, words and heaven.
I may bring about the words of virgin deeds
and leave them hunting those made by angels.
Forgive me if my painting has halos with a wing.
Some demons still live on land and in waters.

Ruddapoet Rudolph