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Array ( [sid] => 54601 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Widdlers Art [time] => 2004-07-03 01:16:09 [hometext] => Theres nothing more interesting in watching an artist do his trait...Lets ponder on what this ones is.... [bodytext] => Locked inside this cage.
Waiting for the readers finger to utter the page.
Inside all this rage fills to the brim.
Every seam needs to be hemmed.

Torn apart for the world.
Losing the lost quarrel.
Death set us apart in the end.
Brought me back before it began.
Never knowing the unknown.
Only to doubt the dark.

Canvas of art.
Tool of destruction.
This is at the widdlers hand.
The skill is tammed from days of old.
Glory and storys to never be retold.

His one art is his one flaw.
Locked inside without knowing them all.
Tasting the essence is his hand.
But only marches to the beat of his one man band.

Controlling the urge to create the new.
Tattered clothes will never do.
Stains on the hands tell the storys so well.
The man of old can never dwell.

For he is the artist.
The master of puppets.
The creator in a sense.
For with his tool alot of pain can come.
For only you can tame what you create. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 163 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Mortis-Dark [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )

The Widdlers Art

Contributed by Mortis-Dark on Saturday, 3rd July 2004 @ 01:16:09 AM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry

Locked inside this cage.
Waiting for the readers finger to utter the page.
Inside all this rage fills to the brim.
Every seam needs to be hemmed.

Torn apart for the world.
Losing the lost quarrel.
Death set us apart in the end.
Brought me back before it began.
Never knowing the unknown.
Only to doubt the dark.

Canvas of art.
Tool of destruction.
This is at the widdlers hand.
The skill is tammed from days of old.
Glory and storys to never be retold.

His one art is his one flaw.
Locked inside without knowing them all.
Tasting the essence is his hand.
But only marches to the beat of his one man band.

Controlling the urge to create the new.
Tattered clothes will never do.
Stains on the hands tell the storys so well.
The man of old can never dwell.

For he is the artist.
The master of puppets.
The creator in a sense.
For with his tool alot of pain can come.
For only you can tame what you create.

Copyright © Mortis-Dark ... [ 2004-07-03 01:16:09]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Widdlers Art (User Rating: 1 )
by arden on Tuesday, 6th July 2004 @ 11:35:29 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

why hasnt this gotten any comments?!
this was bloody amazing. rhyme was really good and the imagery was awesome and your use of words was stunning.
loved this. 5 stars, wish i could give more.
Arden

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