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Array
(
[sid] => 100077
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Whisper
[time] => 2005-07-04 11:06:30
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => What can be said? The trees sway so elegantly with the wind And the mountains are embraced with the setting sun So comfortable it all seems Yet still like a wraith do I feel Gliding endlessly across the lands with eyes of dreams Well if I thought to have known its all been leveled Lays broken around my feet I am waiting with no thought left Stolen with the depression of my suffering I can not say what is real and what lives What dies, bleeding to the carpet once so white Before I came to stand in this place And the moon promises to be beautiful this evening Does that mean you will come once again Steal this insanity that beckons at my door with The murmurs of day time routine (All that continues to endure) Pride and beauty mean nothing in this enchantment I twirl Around in fingers to stiff with typing the same words In different ways Well it’s the block that calls forth the anger The stillness of the flow that demands the drink What do you think now as your whisper grows Pushing against the window like a kiss of suspense I wish I knew if I was losing what grasp I had But so it remains as the crazy torment of what I Crave is smeared once again here In metaphors and psychedelic dreams [comments] => 2 [counter] => 177 [topic] => 73 [informant] => TheTimeOf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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