Evening has subsided with a whisper in the west.
It chased the sunset's final rays as she prepared for rest.

Night has dropped her curtain but the moon has come to play.
The overture begins, as lonely crickets have their way.

The breeze begins to soften and the grass is standing still.
The leaves no longer beckon in the trees upon the hill.

I huddle in the darkness and await the rising wind.
A prayer is formed upon my lips, in homage to a friend.

And there ... I feel the sweet caress, a hand upon my cheek
A breeze that comes from someone ... from the passing soul, I seek.

And as I watch the lingering stars and hear the rustling leaves
I know that she has left this world and heavenward, she weaves.

I bid farewell to one, who loved this life, and all it gave
I dedicate this poem to her and toward the moon, I wave.

Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again

.
Today I went

to Hell,

to sell my soul

to the Devil.



I don't know how

it happened,

but I wound up

buying his.



Now I own

the tortured spirit

of an angel

fallen and disgraced.



He wants it back

so it can't pass

auctioned into the

wrong hands.



The dilemma

beckons an answer

from eternities

waiting hordes.



A decision so large

the universe

holds its breath

in chaotic silence.



I don't know how

it happened

but I've ended up

becoming the Devil.



© Pagan Paul (2016)

The buzz
The high
Fragile stone shut eyes
Pupils big and wide
Stormy rainy night
Emotionless, but with knowledge of life
Blowing wind like smoke
Words heavenly outspoke
Nights growing dark
But marijuana green like the beauty of nature and the trees in the summers breeze
Won't you smoke with me?
And together see the world the way it should be.
Peacefully.