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Array
(
[sid] => 68386
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Poet's Ramblings 2
[time] => 2004-10-21 19:28:12
[hometext] => My outlet to the torrenting emotions within...
[bodytext] => Emotions bled on paper, Words of beauty, expressions of hatred, All woven into one morbid song… My only outlet, My only solace… If only I could dwell in the realms of my poetry, Rest forever in these pictures I paint, With the aid of my Muse… Embellished with sapphire tresses, Beautiful and alone in the vast skies… A story of my life, Obscure and horrid as it is… A sweet Melodie of my love, my desires, my happiness… Thoughts overwhelming, Memories of the past haunting me, The blood is shed once more… Bliss visits me sometimes, In my sleep, where I dream of him… But I awake once more to the blinding light, To this worthless existence… Wounded by the talons of Love, I shed blood and tears for the ones that don’t deserve them… Anguish and insanity, My only friends… Suicide, the eternal Temptress… Forever at the corner of my mind… Begin again, old friend of Woe, Your dark tale… The emptiness that haunted me, And suicide, the darkest goal, The temptress of my dreams… Who shall grasp the barrel? Who shall pull the trigger? Once more again, old friend, Shall you slice this wrist, I won’t pretend That this is not bred from my sorrow, And the anguish that smothers me whole… If only there was a solution, If only there was someone, somewhere, Who cared, who’d stop me from doing the inevitable… The rose wilts away, Her beautiful crimson shine, now gone black, She has been neglected of love and care… Cold and spent, I look to my dying candle hoping to find comfort in its warmth, There is none... Darkness venturing nearer, My pen still poised over the parchment, Hesitant, not knowing of what will come out of me next… Not knowing where la Lune shall take me, Will it be to a long-awaited death? A night of passionate love? The secret affair of the lovers? A write of genuine hatred? So many thoughts, so many emotions, All at once, consuming me, Embracing me, inspiring me… My mind is elsewhere, My hand swiftly scribbling words that I cannot see… The sun is almost present, My bed yawns, and finally gives up its hopes of an occupant… It is complete. I stare intently at the white plains before me, Seeing the ebony blood that are my words… ‘Traveling towards bottom, Wrap a kiss in a leaf of weeping… See a memory standing in front of the mirror… Moisten dreams with drops of drunken nostalgia… A penny waits underneath the tree… A napkin wipes the image of the wind, And a lamp gets angry and doesn’t light up again… A great candle illuminates the fog… The wine is bohemian… A smile greets you with its hand… The deepest abyss sleeps in the soul… A blue leaf frames her face… A shadow waits for death in silence… The sheets dance their war of regret… Interrupt forgetfulness… Laugh senselessly… Undress light and see its blue rails. To finish a beginning is the end…’ The poet has written her last words… Never shall I write again… [comments] => 3 [counter] => 184 [topic] => 43 [informant] => FleurdeSang [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => oops )
|
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