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Array ( [sid] => 136871 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => goddess what have we done [time] => 2007-08-21 05:34:23 [hometext] => [bodytext] => A solemn illumination befalls on a darkened old tree its branches bare of leaves only decay and rot just a knotted rope with frayed ends blowing in the cold wind. Forlorn for three millenniums this gallows tree has stood its place, with roots so deep they feel the fires of hell and fed by the countless dead that has decorated its branches. It lies by the border of a ruthless land full of rivals and torn of war and behind the forest of ancients where only cowards from battles hide, but because the fear of man is so great only so deep would they go. And on the side of that tree their lay a road so old its destination lost in time. As imagination guides us past that evil with so many necks that have been broken we seek to follow this road of wonder and fright. Studying the path and the pebbles that lay only shows that age erased any foot of man or track from carriage.
As the light slowly fades only to show splashes of prism sparks reflections from dew on the foliage, with no sound not even the shuffle of feet. Moving eagerly as darkness finally Overcomes from the thickness of these old woods. Only guided now by sense of something pure ahead and the feeling of love a soft glow in the distance shows itself.
The view was like the sun but in these dense woods no sun touches the ground but natural all the same. In time and moments like these fear would surely rule thought but at present only a sense of bliss remains. Closer to the light the reflections blinding peering threw shaded hands there beholds a fountain made mingled of gold and crystal decorated around symbols of a language to ancient to remember. What was flowing in this pool was a liquid not like lead but as solid but flowing of every colour that is of this earth. The movements of this fluid so dizzying to the eyes to recall any form or flow and just above floating and sleeping a vision of beauty no creature or work of art could compare. Her hair the colour of the sun sparkling on diamonds her skin the colour of all nations black, white brown all of Cree or kind. Around her lay a chrisom but with no marks of religion or sects the liquid that lay between this beauty ripples and tries to grab and pull but a force obeys. The sound in the air so full of harmony no choir could imitate. The clouds above were of fire that danced and swayed with the sounds from the heavens.
Then as a spike a voice rose threw the music but soft a satin but full of judgement.
With words that sound like many but of a single voice calls welcome. This call all at once invokes images of staring at ones soul and reading the stains of sins like a book. Then her eyes open of a colour never before seen in any life and with words with out movement of mouth or tongue say “I have been here since the birth of man and on that special day I built what you see before you this garden with a wall to protect the seed I buried. This seed if fed right with love from humanity it would grow and flourish into a tree with many baring fruit and within this fruit is the hope and knowledge to feed all and give life for all who eat it. I sat awake with that seed as man spawned and spread threw the world but I got tired and not seeing it sprout I laid to rest a little hoping to wake next to that mighty tree”. But in my sleep I dreamed of man and the torment they threw at each other of fires and starvation and war and death. And in my sleep I wept for you and I called to your hearts but to no avail. As the years went by these walls became a fountain that held my tears of your sorrow and as sorrow does it beckons to take and drown me and as I speak and show you my gift I tell you now the seed has gone to rot from my tears and the tree will never grow and the force that has held me from these waters is losing all grip as and my time has finally come to its end. Now that I show you my gift and tell my tale I will let the water take me and like the seed I tried to sow to rot I will become so walk now back down that road and past that tree but don’t look back I have already had more pain in my life that i can handle just tell my story so man can have a better tomorrow.
[comments] => 0 [counter] => 153 [topic] => 43 [informant] => lostrelic [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
goddess what have we done

Contributed by lostrelic on Tuesday, 21st August 2007 @ 05:34:23 AM in AEST
Topic: oops



A solemn illumination befalls on a darkened old tree its branches bare of leaves only decay and rot just a knotted rope with frayed ends blowing in the cold wind. Forlorn for three millenniums this gallows tree has stood its place, with roots so deep they feel the fires of hell and fed by the countless dead that has decorated its branches. It lies by the border of a ruthless land full of rivals and torn of war and behind the forest of ancients where only cowards from battles hide, but because the fear of man is so great only so deep would they go. And on the side of that tree their lay a road so old its destination lost in time. As imagination guides us past that evil with so many necks that have been broken we seek to follow this road of wonder and fright. Studying the path and the pebbles that lay only shows that age erased any foot of man or track from carriage.
As the light slowly fades only to show splashes of prism sparks reflections from dew on the foliage, with no sound not even the shuffle of feet. Moving eagerly as darkness finally Overcomes from the thickness of these old woods. Only guided now by sense of something pure ahead and the feeling of love a soft glow in the distance shows itself.
The view was like the sun but in these dense woods no sun touches the ground but natural all the same. In time and moments like these fear would surely rule thought but at present only a sense of bliss remains. Closer to the light the reflections blinding peering threw shaded hands there beholds a fountain made mingled of gold and crystal decorated around symbols of a language to ancient to remember. What was flowing in this pool was a liquid not like lead but as solid but flowing of every colour that is of this earth. The movements of this fluid so dizzying to the eyes to recall any form or flow and just above floating and sleeping a vision of beauty no creature or work of art could compare. Her hair the colour of the sun sparkling on diamonds her skin the colour of all nations black, white brown all of Cree or kind. Around her lay a chrisom but with no marks of religion or sects the liquid that lay between this beauty ripples and tries to grab and pull but a force obeys. The sound in the air so full of harmony no choir could imitate. The clouds above were of fire that danced and swayed with the sounds from the heavens.
Then as a spike a voice rose threw the music but soft a satin but full of judgement.
With words that sound like many but of a single voice calls welcome. This call all at once invokes images of staring at ones soul and reading the stains of sins like a book. Then her eyes open of a colour never before seen in any life and with words with out movement of mouth or tongue say “I have been here since the birth of man and on that special day I built what you see before you this garden with a wall to protect the seed I buried. This seed if fed right with love from humanity it would grow and flourish into a tree with many baring fruit and within this fruit is the hope and knowledge to feed all and give life for all who eat it. I sat awake with that seed as man spawned and spread threw the world but I got tired and not seeing it sprout I laid to rest a little hoping to wake next to that mighty tree”. But in my sleep I dreamed of man and the torment they threw at each other of fires and starvation and war and death. And in my sleep I wept for you and I called to your hearts but to no avail. As the years went by these walls became a fountain that held my tears of your sorrow and as sorrow does it beckons to take and drown me and as I speak and show you my gift I tell you now the seed has gone to rot from my tears and the tree will never grow and the force that has held me from these waters is losing all grip as and my time has finally come to its end. Now that I show you my gift and tell my tale I will let the water take me and like the seed I tried to sow to rot I will become so walk now back down that road and past that tree but don’t look back I have already had more pain in my life that i can handle just tell my story so man can have a better tomorrow.




Copyright © lostrelic ... [ 2007-08-21 05:34:23]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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