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Array
(
[sid] => 159344
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Dreams of the Gargoyle
[time] => 2010-04-29 04:27:54
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Dreams of the Gargoyle I awake from the fear and the terrors in the early hours, My night clothes and bed linen soaked from my sweating body. All I hear continuously are the screams of the damned; Those condemned to a life in Hell, punished in purgatory; An eternity of unspeakable torture with no hope of absolution. Visions, almost at a subliminal speed flash within my sleeping mind, Glimpses of mutilation, arms waving in beseeching torment and the heat, My God the heat of a smelting furnace burning the flesh in the air itself. Such is enough to drive a balanced individual insane but that one voice, Those cries of anguish that cut through the rest like a voice shattering glass; My Melissa, her soul held captive by the denizens of the demon world. I thought it had been my soul that had been taken from me, The emptiness I felt was so pronounced it left me pathetic, fragile. My mood had changed, become surly, uncommunicative, withdrawn and emotionless. The truth was, however, that it had been Melissa that had been snatched from me, Leaving me incomplete, lost, as though a whole piece of me had been ripped out. But surely there was worse to come. This could not be the finish, my end. They would be back, sometime and this time it would be for MY soul. Alistair Muir 29/04/2010 [comments] => 2 [counter] => 144 [topic] => 31 [informant] => aliopterix [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 0 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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