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Array
(
[sid] => 18019
[catid] => 1
[aid] => Mick
[title] => Entropy
[time] => 2003-05-26 02:35:00
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Do you feel the rain Against your skin the same As you did so many years before? And is the thunder still as loud Or did you get used to the sound? And you're not afraid anymore Or is it different now, somehow Just like everything The skin, the scars, the memories The feeling, the sound, the pain Is the fire still as bright? As it was that night? Or did they, too, grow cold Did the smoke finally clear Or did it just now appear Or do you even know anymore? Does the wind still boldly blow Do the wildflowers still grow Or the streams still quicklly flow? Maybe you've moved on from that place But then I see your pretty face And it makes me hope you're there You fall to the ground, granite tears flowing But you don't feel their chilly embrace As they chisel their way down your face Strangely, I can; their each movement Sending chills down my spine And I, too, fall; grasping to each breath As if it were the last -- nay, like the sweetest Life had ever offered. Just like you. You were the brightest I'd ever seen. Your smile blinded me; so did your love. Through a thousand sunsets I'd sat, And I never had witnessed one so perfect, So breathtaking as you. Thunder. The sound brought my -- our final gazes To one another. Mine to you, your's to mine in A casual, damning mannor. His last breath was spent hoping she was Not in pain anymore. Her's was spent hoping . . . [comments] => 3 [counter] => 172 [topic] => 13 [informant] => phoenixpm [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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