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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 12-June 04:06:35 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 144554
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Apologue
[time] => 2008-08-14 16:53:35
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => T was an air for fairytales and stories to be told. The seasoned whispers calmly claiming fables of the bold. Legends wrought of fantasy, though none were e’er believed, Save for one unsightly mark who’s call the world conceived. When whispers broke the silence and asphodels were white Beneath the starry halls above, beyond the mortal sight, The phantom of the universe grew silent in his shell Where from his cradle forged the seasons, heaven and a hell. Planar lands of greens and blue, where winds crawled gently by. A world of even circumstance, entropic to his eye. He forged the dawn and shaped the dusk, he smelt the mountains red Yet when mankind had made its place, the lord already fled. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 206 [topic] => 43 [informant] => gravehorn [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
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