Be happy with her.
Leave me alone to die,
with your broken song still inside of me.
Though its melody is now old,
and out of tune.
It still remains my favorite
As I walk this lonely path
the music plays for me.
Picking at the neat stitches,
the seams of my inner universe.
Somewhere a dam bursts,
a levee breaks, floodgates open.
And vision is impaired by drops
like boulders of rain on a windscreen,
but I have no wiper blades,
just the rims of my wraparounds.
And the music plays on regardless,
ripping through the fabric,
the cushion of my existence.
Control lets go, an illogical absentee.
Millennia creep by as minutes tick.
Sliding through black curtains sight returns,
the shakes pass slowly, rubbernecking shame.
And as the music plays in my head,
I walk the path and treasure the gift
of tears for souvenirs.
© Pagan Paul (2017)
When nobody sees you cry ...
Sin has undone our wretched race;
But Jesus has restored,
And brought the sinner face to face
With his forgiving Lord.
This we repeat from year to year
And press upon our youth;
Lord, give them an attentive ear,
Lord, save them by Thy truth!
Blessings upon the rising race!
Make this a happy hour,
According to Thy richest grace,
And thine Almighty power.
We feel for your unhappy state
(May you regard it too),
And would a while ourselves forget
To pour our prayer for you.
We see, though you perceive it not,
The approaching awful doom;
Oh tremble at the solemn thought,
And flee the wrath to come!
Dear Saviour, let this new-born year
Spread an alarm abroad;
And cry in every careless ear,
"Prepare to meet thy God!"
Oceans of thought provoking reads
sends his mind sailing as he drifts off and dreams.
Words come to life, creating abstract scenes, activating DNA.
Dimensions stretch, never again be(lie)ving in the same things.
Rose colored glasses cracked, hit by the truth, leaving such a painful sting.
When it all subsides, night vision eyes will be what will assist him in his dreams.
It's the desire to seek out these mysteries that keeps him intrigued by intricate things.
Show me O Lord
Where you yet abide
For no longer can I see
Without you by my side
Dark sprits and men
Have led me astray
A thousand times
Throughout my days
Your word is true
The only key
Twisted by men
More cleaver than me
I am too simple
And easily swayed
To keep up with the demons
That dance in my brain
Come to me Lord
And show me the Way
That I might rest assured
At the close of the day
Imagine being nameless among the rich folk and the famous
waiting for the ship that never seems to come,
when you know one day discovered is the same as being lifeless so you tighten up the thumbscrews that you keep for these occasions
and the public who are star struck sit and share the paparazzi with the wolves from that old fairy tale you read in second grade.
I imagine nothing but the lights that shine out on the Broadway nights outside the Chinese restaurant,
impaled upon the point of no return with no concern for grace and favours spat back in my face
my prints forever sealed into the sidewalks of the dream.
catch me at the matinee
come and see the latest play
or switch back to a yesterday,
imagine that you're famous