.
You are there,
stalking my memories,
a series of pornographic tapestries
woven deep into my mind,
Hand stitched together
with a cold blunt needle,
threatening to unravel fast
when the sun kisses the horizon.

The petals of paper flowers
yellow with time passing,
presenting a weathered view
of a love that once thrived,
but is now moon dust
gathering on a dark web
of lust laced
with delicate ****** fragments.



© Pagan Paul (25/08/18)

I want to hold my head up high
I want to fly till I touch the sky
I want to make my angel smile.

Days will be hard and nights cooler
Life won’t draw your card any more
The storm outside would rage on & on
Yet your music would raise me strong.

The wounds keep bleeding
The tears keep falling
I may not matter any longer
But I promise to not let them monger.

Nothing can glimmer your dazzling light
Believe me, you can scale pristine heights
You are the brightest star ever
Just let it shine sharp and clear.

Keep smiling
Remain happy
Brighten up my Angel of Joy
You will always be my Phantom of Delight.

~~PASSIVE PASSION~~
Endures & Binds,
when
Provocations Looseth the Soul.
How
Submissive & Impulsive,
Yet so Very
Paradoxical a Paranoid !

~~RUSTED TRUST~~
Forges & Sharpens,
when
Life's Brunts Maketh the Soul.
How
Ironic & Caustic,
Yet so Very
Powerful a Predominance !

~~VANQUISHED VANITY~~
Fosters & Transcends,
when
Identity Forageth the Soul.
How
Narcissistic & Intransitive,
Yet so Very
Surreal a Sacrifice !

I was strolling through my dreary and dull road,
When, I met a man, who touched my soul,
He walked towards me with his colorful laugh,
Changing the dusty and dull road to a vibrant photograph,

For you who contains similar depth as the capicuous ocean,  
Knows how to embrace heart's every emotion,

For you who sought inspiration in all,
Isn't you an inspiration to all ?

You who is congruous to the Mountain who raises himself above the earth, always seeking the sky's divinity,
And Away from the earth's guilt and sins, but still belongs to the earth,

For I whose poetry seldom rhymes well,
Can never fathom the ineffable composure of your trueself.

Everynight many wishes comes and escapes through my mind, but tonight it's different it's not a wish to be bind,
It's madness which has engulfed me,

Tonight the infatuation to be "the death" itself has been born, to feel and sense the last presence of you (life) leaving the sheath forlorn,

To Taste your lips, to kiss your carelessly swaying breast, forever, waiting to embrace you with endless zest,
Though your true essence would eventually bring you to be contained within me, till then you would fear and try to flee,

Though I would be Dark and mysterious, many would find me awfully hideous,
But still, my heart aches and relentlessly whispers his wish to be "the death" tonight and it seems I must bear this ceaseless midnight,
All by myself,
But isn't embracing death is embracing life itself?

.
The Virginal one is a Maiden fair,
a girl adorned with long blonde hair.
Bold and brash, yet cautious and shy,
her dreams lift up and start to fly.

Raven hair falls in delicate tresses,
on the Mother of children Nature blesses.
Calm and firm, yet open and sure,
her dreams fulfilled are played out pure.

Cold and damp attack the bones,
trying to agitate the black haired Crone.
Old and steady, yet clever and wise,
her dreams forever light up the skies.

Walking through woods, warm and shady,
barefoot, confident, the Forest Lady.
She has her dreams and always will,
until the day her heart stands still.

© Pagan Paul (01/02/17)