Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Dec 2017 Alegria Mir
l m
no beauty
 Dec 2017 Alegria Mir
l m
Your scars arent beautiful,
theres no beauty in hurting yourself
no beauty in blades
no beauty in throwing up your food
no beauty in mascara running from your eyes at 2 am
no beauty in eyes that are dead
nobody will kiss your scars
i'm sorry for that.
Once upon a time I believed
In a girl who had the allure
That was unattainable

Her form was pristine
Her back was a stick
Her eyes were like diamonds
Too pricey to trick

But the world crashed upon
Her, a collar was strapped
To the ways of this planet
Without even a glance back

Parents... a lie
Friends... a myth
Her secrets have closen
Her deep from within

No guy perhaps could save her still
there was nothing keeping her here
Her ways, her sway, her swagger walk
Took step by step until she stopped

At her own level of gaze and stayed
Watching and waiting for him to go away
He left, her alone, she eyed him still
For what can he do, is he in God’s will?
 Nov 2017 Alegria Mir
Pagan Paul
.
Glistening droplets
form soft liquid spheres that spill
moon rain down wet cheeks.


© Pagan Paul (29/11/17)
.
Midsummer midnight skies,
Midsummer midnight influences and airs,
The shining, sensitive silver of the sea
Touched with the strange-hued blazonings of dawn;
And all so solemnly still I seem to hear
The breathing of Life and Death,
The secular Accomplices,
Renewing the visible miracle of the world.

The wistful stars
Shine like good memories.  The young morning wind
Blows full of unforgotten hours
As over a region of roses.  Life and Death
Sound on--sound on . . . And the night magical,
Troubled yet comforting, thrills
As if the Enchanted Castle at the heart
Of the wood's dark wonderment
Swung wide his valves, and filled the dim sea-banks
With exquisite visitants:
Words fiery-hearted yet, dreams and desires
With living looks intolerable, regrets
Whose voice comes as the voice of an only child
Heard from the grave:  shapes of a Might-Have-Been--
Beautiful, miserable, distraught--
The Law no man may baffle denied and slew.

The spell-bound ships stand as at gaze
To let the marvel by.  The grey road glooms . . .
Glimmers . . . goes out . . . and there, O, there where it fades,
What grace, what glamour, what wild will,
Transfigure the shadows?  Whose,
Heart of my heart, Soul of my soul, but yours?

Ghosts--ghosts--the sapphirine air
Teems with them even to the gleaming ends
Of the wild day-spring!  Ghosts,
Everywhere--everywhere--till I and you
At last--dear love, at last!--
Are in the dreaming, even as Life and Death,
Twin-ministers of the unoriginal Will.

— The End —