mrpakadam

The truth is… I simply abhor  your kiss.

The truth is… It’s simply you I never miss.

The truth is… I hate you more the less.

The truth is…

Love is complicated. The more you try the less you recieve from it. Although our young loves can see, and are not blinded to, the inapplicable nature of nostalgia; even more they are in actuality fully sighted and can read between the red and black lines of, all that nature that lives vibrant; and know for fact that they live as renegades, renegades to and of a love that is truthfully sinful, sinful  by nature and law.

They put in more then what is necessary to maintain, and yet receive less then what they expected humbly. And so the truth is…

I truthfully adore the moments we share.

I truthfully love the way your lips cut then sheer my heart.

I truthfully never want to see you leave… for you turned; without a doubt a hollow heart into one that can care.

I truthfully love you more then love itself.

I truthfully…

Those who fall in love must be bound and cut, readily accepting that which is, love. At any given moment the knife will shed blood, but you must ignore that cut, if so then thus one will forever indulge in love… sinful or not. Consider this and that and you will see that this is that and not what it isn’t to be but rather what it isn’t not to be.

(If you have any comments that can help me improve my writing skills I will readily accept and intake anything you offer, redundant or not. I wish to become the best I can, so please do not fear telling me what you think. Add me as a friend, and share with me your ideas, I will try to do the same. ^^)

-Pak Adam(Adam hayes)

Oh my nymph, with tender to soft skin, with eyes as radiant as a moon to the sun, with hair that floats and drifts, like a leaf entrapped Autumn’s wind. Flow gracefully and land’th in my heart, become one with me… grant’th love a new start. Make me whole again, bring me love not friend, offer all you can, and i vow that in the end, you will fiend for my touch again.

My plea is all I can give, for as a poor man, I have no gifts I can send. But if the western winds could only lift my love, then forever rich we would become. But Zephyr falters to the east, and the flurry never seems to halt nor cease, so forever my love I am forever to be divided by two, for without you my love, I am nothing more then half of a wind that stays true. So grow’th wings my love and do not halt until you land in my heart.

Adam Qadamon Hakeem Hayes.

AKA ^^ MRPAKADAM

Without a bumble, a bee can not fly. A bee is landlocked without it’s bumble, and therefore it will stay on the ground. Where does the bumble and the bee meet?  How does a bumble find its bee? Or how does the bee find its bumble? Fine questions to ask.

Oh bumble I miss the bee.

Oh bee I miss my bumble.

Love and trouble found me humble and now I lost my bumble.

Bee i see is free from me and now I must let it be.

But I fumble when tumble down the road to see my bumble and my bee.

I love my bumble, I love to tumble, but most importantly I love my bumble bee.

I am nothing without strips, and am nothing without flight, but I am less without my bumble.

I make no noise, and am so cold, but when I am free I miss you my bestfriend bee.

Bumble and my bee, you must be, so set us free, our bumbled bee.