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Array
(
[sid] => 125389
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Shattered Soul
[time] => 2006-09-06 15:15:47
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Church bells toll glorious, and true violent chills race up over a spine. ‘Tis a man, a sinner, unruly, and rude the holy father he may never find. No wisdom held in high regard no upright walk, but wicked way. Tattered from his death, posing as birth is but his entrance to hells doorway. From the beginning of birth, decaying deterred from the righteous tongue. Marching onward bent on living, but falling backward off the ladders rung. A ghostly pale covers him whole... darkened circles underneath his eyes. So tired of losing every war, left wearing this seasoned guise. Never knowing joy in life, burned over the righteous coals of God. Wanton, weary, wicked from womb he is a spawn of Satan’s rod. Whore to evil, to Lucifer true, his mother the woman that paved his way. Forced to live with without caring eyes his mind hardened with evil sway. The church bell tolls its holy tune. 'Tis this man that hell has wrought. God is calling a shattered soul, to save but his deafened ears hear not. A desperate call to salvations grace is shrugged off with an angry sigh! Wanton, weary, wicked, and lost, Yet, the father he will always deny. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 172 [topic] => 13 [informant] => TwistedCage [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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