Doodle v 1h

What you know love is
Love is this what i do
I dont cheat you
I come forward and fight for what is right and what i feel
I dont have any intention to steal

I give, you take
I play to the heartbeat once which was lost in memories of you and me sitting in corner of our broken fate

Love has power which makes us believe
It never listens to other voices which only want you to fail

Devil can catch you and evil can blind you
But there is some light which finds you even if you are at end of a tunnel no can reach you

But darkness will try you and test you to the limit where even light cant escape
but will travel with you till it reaches the end
and when the journey ends there is a new a galaxy and a new world where our stars wont fade...

So i love and make everything right..
And i create with heart of broken peices which this broken world has forgotten to fight..

So lets bring our emotions and mix it with colors of space which are born every day with a reason to give a view of ideas and thoughts which make us who we are in this ever so enigmatic view of time and space ..

melancholy 14h

The sun is much colder when you’re alone but the moonlight is warm at the end of the day when my bones creak from exhaustion.
Human interaction wears me out and I can’t hear myself over others. I want to fucking smash my head against the wall and no one leaves me alone I just want the and no one else at this. I take my time to recharge alone because I haven't taken time for myself yet today.

melancholy 14h

I thought God was calling me until I realized my phone was dead and
my brain was just reverberating the ringtone that was ingrained in my head next to your name.
I'm so fucking lame, because
it was just the static along with the 100 miles with no signals.
a you showed me what love was when I thought my savior had left me.
I thought you were the one, darling..
only to have you smash my heart as much as my fucking phone screen.
it's okay though,
I have my network to back me up after you left me.
so more more dial tones.

And! His gaps could be filled only by the emptiness which belonged to the coldest night,

The merciless night! Which healed his not so prominent scars;

The scars! That painted an ambiguous riddle on his soul,

The soul! A traveler a descendent from the dark

Dark Writing

Pastel frosting spells out the word, and it's decorated on every balloon in the small room. There's smiley faces and the sound of noisemakers that seem to grow louder with every step. There's presents upon presents upon presents filled with everything that one could have ever wished for. There's even a chair for the luckiest child. It was the perfect party, suited for the perfect child.

There are no readable words in the other room. Barely any light escapes into the room, or out of it, for that matter. It is eerily quiet, as if this room and the other room were not in the same house. Every once in awhile, the only noise heard is a very slow dirge, but the source cannot be found. The only thing in the room is an empty casket, to be used by the luckiest child. It was the perfect party suited for the perfect child.

originally written 9/19/16

Rooms filled with fire compelling the darkness,
burning on light, emptying the room. No
hearing or seeing or smelling, only
tasting the smoke of my friends burning, feeling
the flames licking my cheeks. The faint sound of
wood thudding into a skull reverberates
through me. So far away yet still here.
The light comes back to see the bodies
of loved ones falling, skulls caved in. Bones limp
and eyes sparkless. Dead. I hear laughter as
palms hover over candles, seething and melting
skin dripping from their hands, faces.
Mouths misshapen and crude, jagged,
cruel. Skin drained, white as bone, red eyes of blood
dripping with death. Your soft body approaches me.
All is calm and well until your body
merges with the rest of them and you condemn me
with eyes of rotting flesh.

~~ Death is emerging from my soul. ~~
Matt Earl 1d

Falling down the Rabbit hole, where monsters become real
Red pill, Blue pill, any pill to make me feel real

Deeper, darker I fall into depressions pit
No respite, just pools of blood from the wrists I’ve slit

Desperation, no elation as I pray for some release
Situation critical as I struggle to find peace

With death comes freedom and no more pain
My passing proves the monster has been slain

Though it swallows our friends, the grave never speaks
And our voices can’t reach them now; they’re buried too far down
It’s difficult to imagine how dark it is for you, I guess this was something you had to go through
What’s it like, being free? Is it like a dream?
You never liked the noise, the ruckus and all the ploys
I guess you got what you always wanted, though it all seems haunted
This world seems a little darker to me too, of my cold grave it’s a little preview
Your memory will die now that you’re gone, inevitable like the going of dawn
This journey without you, I wonder if it even matters whether I do
The birds sing as before, I see when I’m gone there’ll be no uproar
With you in silence, to the earth I return and bring some balance
As it was so it will be, a life is gone and gives another its key
This life is pointless as can be, but it defines our eternity
Soon silence comes and we leave this place, so toil for the next and for this grace

The Room of Dancing Shadows,
undulating across the wall,
like erotic Persian ballerinas,
making no sound at all.
Reaching, retreating, a mosaic form,
eternally shifting the dark shade.
Pictures of no light in a flux,
remain fragmented, cold, unmade.
Hypnotising, random shapes in black,
swim serenely, start to slide.
The Room of Dancing Shadows
holds its fear deep, deep inside.

© Pagan Paul (03/10/16)


The sadness in your eyes
brought back memories
when I looked at you today,
memories that took me back
to what seems like a lifetime ago.
I saw the emptiness,
the void that now exists
where the irises of your eyes
used to flash color and life.
The light in your smile still lingers,
I can see its memory in the corners of your frown.
The color of your skin
betrays your nod
when asked if you're feeling better.
Your pale, frail little body
looked like a knot, all curled up
in that way on your hospital bed,
and as much as I hated myself for it
I silently cast pity on you.
Your attempt at conversation
was drown out of my ears
by the ringing of a thousand pills
hitting the bathroom counter,
what a beautiful tragedy your parents must have found,
their baby girl
splayed out on the floor like a heap of laundry
needing to be washed.
And you were,
washed that is,
they pumped your stomach the moment you arrived.
All those chemicals filling you
so you'd never be hungry again.
I noticed your scars,
and your freshly made art
hastily carved into your bark
so you wouldn't forget your intentions.
I can feel the thickness
of the air
weighing on you,
and I wish I had something to say
to help lift the burden,
so I simply leave you with
“things will get better,”
but you won't know that
until they do,
because I didn't know it
until now.

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