I could tell you about my life, but that would ruin the mystique.
Poets seem to pride themselves on being dark and deep.

See beneath the surface,
and the first thing you would think:

Here's the epitome of failed friendship -
definitely one I shouldn't keep.

I’m afraid I’ve fallen in love
The idea of company sounds great
Family, friends, soulmates
I love the silence
Now some chatter feels good
I’ve changed
I long for company

I can hardly bear this
tension of my lips
as I fall for the silence
in your hands
I remain silent till
the coffe gets cold
the streets get slippery
because of a radical darkness
somewhere there is a first
breath, a first kiss,
a last breath

I want to forget all languages
except the language of whispers
a rumbling cascade this feeling
of my quiet fingers
such a wonderful paradox
within a broken world
innocent dreams can envision
you

.
I lay down on a bed of petals
I lay down on the flowers scent
I lay down on a bed of petals
I saw my Spirit and where it went

I lay down on a mossy carpet
I lay down on the forest floor
I lay down on a mossy carpet
I feel my Spirit was here before

I lay down on an icy glacier
I lay down on the frozen ground
I lay down on an icy glacier
I know my Spirit can be found.

Pagan Paul (25/09/22)

He never actually said it to me
He just wrote it in his poetry
I suppose it’s a testament to what a great poet he is
That I took it so personally

Time is fast, faster when You utilise it and even fastest when You realise it.
                                                      M.S. Anjaan