~~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)

All this week
I’ve been dealing
with numerous situations
that would shattered
most souls
I could choose to be crusty
Or I could choose to laugh louder
at whatever challenges  life throws my way
for laughter can bring true healing
to one’s soul
Just laugh
Laugh from deep in your belly
which is guaranteed to keep you
smiling all day long
And the sooner you can do that
the sooner you’ll advance
to the next life lesson
Laugh and laugh often
Laugh like there’s no tomorrow
because tomorrow
is not a given
Just laugh