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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 11-June 11:14:41 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 143505
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Mistress Called Night
[time] => 2008-06-26 06:09:02
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Abysmal are the depths of the night Secrets wrapped tightly in Her cold bosom Lay dormant, waiting for the eyes of the Chosen To search for them, hidden from sight. We are waiting for the coming of the light. Faded are the colours of the night Melancholy shades in ebony frames Paint Her walls in Carpathian ways The portrait wrinkles as Her shadows take flight. We are searching for the coming of the light. Unconscious are the senses of the night. Mute words fall upon the lobes of deaf ears As the numb hand claws at the blind eye's fears. In darkness, there is no wrong or right. We are praying for the coming of the light. Wretched are the creatures of the night. The forest writhes with the Banshee's wail As Her hand sets forth the hounds of Hell Whose mouths foam with a cannibal's delight. We have fallen from the dawning of the light, We are forever the cold, dark night. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 186 [topic] => 13 [informant] => surfwiththealien [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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