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Blade Maiden Dec 2018
Since I already knew
I'd die of a broken heart
I made preperations
treating my death like art

Stop worrying
I took care of everything
the guests and the burying
even ordered flowers in early spring
I'm still around. If anyone was actually wondering where I've been I apologize. I missed posting on here so I might get back to it more often. No promises. I hope you, whoever reads this, are having a good day, week, month.. and if not, hang in there. Just hang in there.
Blade Maiden Oct 2018
I don't think I know
where to begin or
where to go
How to leave chance behind
how to change perceptions
how to treat my own mind

I don't know
why I have this need
to share and to show
Exactly where I stand
ever spilling heart in hand

I don't know why
I keep asking for truth
from strangers only passing by
Same old retreat
numbing sadness on repeat

I have no idea
what to tell you now
how to make myself more clear
How to leave and how to save
how to make my feet behave

I'm a glass full of shards
a peculiar collection
lots of shiny unknown parts
I don't know who I am anymore
I don't think I knew before
  Oct 2018 Blade Maiden
Pagan Paul
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Quiet! Shhh!
Can you hear it?
The animals are talking.
No, they are panicking.
Can you smell it?
The Forest is on fire.
My Forest is aflame!

I run, following nostrils singed with heat,
against the tide of the fleeing fauna.
Reaching the blaze I see....
eight of them.
My anger rises and erupts.
'STOP!' I bellow. They turn and draw swords.
My eyes narrow and a look of pure disdain unfolds.

I continue.
'I am Rook, Lord of the Forest Kingdom.
How dare you, enter my domain with no permission
and reek havoc on my Forest'.

A step is taken, toward me.
The eyes of a fighter glower, at me.
The point of a sword raises, threatening me.

I punish.
'For your transgressions and your destruction
you shall stand as stones, for eternity,
and as a warning to others'.

A scream pierces the air as a foot,
then another, compresses to rock.
The rest join the chorus, agony,
as each become statues,
twisted and contorted as
the Ancient Oaks they had destroyed.

My Oaks.
This is my Anger.
Would you care to see my Love?


© Pagan Paul (2018)
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