She sits rather still, stitching her loom
shackled and bound to the whispering room
While the walls shutter speeches
she slouches then reaches,
her stitching resumed.

Threads of silk pool in spools
cast to the floor
Hushing the voices
as they pour

the voices repeat their crippling phrase
dancing the space
bound to their maze

It's so much more
Than the daffodil sunrise
Exhaling puffed purple trails of smokey
Cotton ball clouds
Reflected across the stitches
Of your hazel-green iris
That captures my attention so,
And refuses to return
My breath you've stolen.

.
Wrapping the sky
      around shoulders of grief,
prepared shuffles of aimless motion
in time,
     a hood of moons
transpire to illuminate,
          conveying the dissolution
of reason and rhyme,
as logic takes a bullet and bites the dust
resplendent in a cloak
     of transparent darkness swirling,
          a veil drops
like the final curtain,
with the august play about to commence,
     the actors, forward,
          taking a bow of silence,
to an absent audience who do not care,
the arrival at platform zero,
     of nowhere,
          travelling to nothing on a vacant train,
an instant express to the heart
     of the void,
carrying hallucinations
          in a purse
                    of stars,
Promise rides a chariot of blessing,
yielding a gift
     sugar coated in
          images and
                    words.


© Pagan Paul (11/04/18)

What am I to make
of a world so easy to break?
The silence of fading lines;
the boundaries that couldn't hold.
Once a beautiful picture
has withered away to a dull blur.
Rain.
Harsh pounding of the sky's cries.
Cold.
Forgotten presence of souls.
Wind.
Disappointed sighs of Mother Nature.
Heat.
Anger building behind the eyes.
Earthquake.
Strikes and smashes for the beaten and bashed.
A place meant to strive
cannot even survive.

How sharp the frost
That falls on the summer rose
As an unnatural winter
Covers a hot June land
And honey bees search for what is lost
In a place where nothing now grows
As tears fall as acid, for here we were.
A billion grains of sand.

I just want
to see how
beautiful
you truly are,
far from what
you see you
see in the
mirror,
for now,
look away
from the
world,
our fingers
gently trace,
softly, the sun
paints light
upon your
golden skin,
hold me closer,
your sweater
Is softer than
cashmere,
and palms
caress
as the sun
rises from
the sea, and
all turns to
watercolor,
these eyes
are special
to me, as
they hold
the secrets
of your heart
I will hold
as it whispers,
"for you,
I am a soul
deeply
in love,
wishing
upon a star
among
thousands,
waiting for
your arms
to open my
petals,
I know what
those shining
eyes are hiding,
they are closely
holding a love
greater than
time, I have been
waiting for you,
I want you to know,
you are the
beautiful one
who will be the
sunshine to my
rain, the warmth
I seek to reside
In forever, and
the breathe
of the rose
I wish to
become".