the finality of flame
smoking out my compassion
i watched the remains
go up in orange ribbons of goodbye

I’ve chosen to walk
A lonely road
Where ravens squawk
As time erodes
Where the devil talks
Through whispered codes

I walk along
A dark wooded path
Where the nights are long
And I face Satan's wraith
Everything feels wrong
There's no turning back

The more I wander
The more I stray
More time to squander
The days away
So much time to ponder
The end of days

Darkness is falling
The Earth is dying
The Devil's calling
The news is lying
It's all so appalling
There's no denying

This path I roam
Is filled with sorrows
Nowhere feels home
Too many tomorrows
Too Many poems
Spreading my woes

The Devil follows
He tempts my soul
But my soul is hollow
So still I stroll
This pain I swallow
And it takes its toll

I can not save
This doomed planet
We've dug our grave
Satan's enchantment
Has made us slaves
Bloodshed is rampant

And when we crumble
I'll shed no tears
The devil mumbles
In our ears
So we stumble
Year after year
As the end draws near

.
If you happen to find a poet
hiding shyly beneath a stone.
Gently put him in your pocket
and carry him safely home.

Show him love and kindness,
take time to get to know him.
And if you smile so sweetly
he will gladly pen you a poem.

For if you hold his real value,
and recognise his true worth.
He'll look deep into your soul,
to give you the sun, moon and earth.

© Pagan Paul (05/04/17)

Five years to the day your heart attack began.
Thinking of you, my own chest hurt;
I imagined pain in my shoulders,
Felt the weariness of years...
Even shed some tears.

April Fools Day, 2012, long on the shelf,
Returns fresh, cuts like a blunt knife,
Tears my innards; causes me to gasp...
The phone call of your imminent demise
Returns to mind,
Drives the blade to the hasp.

Heavy days, these April Fools'
Not the tom-fool days they used to be.
These are days to shake my core,
To stomp and worry my heart sore,
And ask if I'll live through many more.

The best part about falling in love
Is just when it begins,
And the best part about making love
Is just before it ends:
The ecstasy surrounds us, then
We sail away on tide and wind
To do the best parts
Over again