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Array
(
[sid] => 27378
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => State of Mind
[time] => 2003-11-18 03:22:40
[hometext] => well love can be unfair
[bodytext] => It’s like lying in a coffin Not alive, but not quite dead. The lid starts to close It’s shadow falling across your head. You will your eyes to open You will your lungs to scream. This cannot be happening. It must be just a dream. The lid falls with a bang Bringing a darkness that surrounds. Your thoughts and sense reeling, Listening for a sound. There must be someone out there, Someone in search of me, Who will come and lift the lid Setting my heart free. Maybe now you’re starting to understand The pain that love can bring. The pain of love, a love of pain, A never-ending ring. But it doesn’t just stop there, The waiting – it drags on I lye there unable to move I lye there for so long. At last there is a movement beyond The varnished wooden seal. Two thick hard inches that signifies The torture will not heal. The atmosphere is choking. Darkness suffocates my thoughts. Just lift your arm a little, Simple – like knocking on a door. But I can’t, why wont it move? My arms wont budge a mil. Panic hits me harder, Rising in me – rising still. I try again to mumble But no sound will come out. What is that loud banging That sound coming from without? Love takes you in good faith, Promises the world to you. Steals your heart and soul, Then returns them ton in two. It shows you happiness, for but a while Then pulls the rug from where you stand, Leaving you without a life-line Without a helping hand. It’s like a nail driving into your coffin. I can hear the banging above. The wood splintering either side Like a slowly dying love. I make another attempt to stop this closure, My weak tapping on the side, But my efforts are lost, For the banging will not subside. Four nails have gone in, A fifth is on its way. With each one a little hope dies, A death will come this day. The inevitable cannot be ceased, You fall in love – and then You hate your heart fro leading you down this path Dragging you through pain again. A sixth nail is driven in, Then seventh, then eighth, then nine You wince with every striking Of the hammer on the iron. You gave up hope completely, Of surviving this ordeal. It’s the giving up itself, That ensures that this wont heal. It’s the loss of faith and loss of heart, That drives the last nail in. The point of no return, You are forever locked within. They say the groans of love and the groans of the dying Are ever so much the same. But who would have thought, that death would win-out In this mixed up lovers game. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 266 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Katie-Kate [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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