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Array ( [sid] => 81477 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => A Fine Line Between Poets And Madmen [time] => 2005-01-25 19:36:50 [hometext] => [bodytext] => Deep in these dark, musty, backwoods there lies a long forgotten shack. Condemned from society, and far away from civilization or rational thought. Dead leaves cover the sour ground which surround this desolate shed. Once inside, a pungent stench seems to overpower the air and the walls are enveloped in old, peeling paint along with withered newspaper clippings. The only source of light in this dim woodshed is emitted from a small crack in the ceiling. A thin ray of pale moonlight shines down on a long metallic table, while insects scuttle silently across the abrasive floor. Upon this cold, dull surface, layered with grime and fungus, there are assorted rusted blades and hooks. Stained with the blood of innocence. Also placed on the table, a tarnished glass jar, filled with aged formaldehyde and a human hand severed at the wrist. An eternal memento. Close by, there lays a filthy mattress, soiled with blood and ejaculate. And atop this foulness, there rests a broken man, covered in infectious cuts and sores. Now breathing heavily, yet dead to the world, over exhausted from his sexual triumph. Next to him lays the lifeless, festering victim, completely inanimate, with an absence of her right hand. This decaying corpse is positioned face up, her blank, sterile eyes still wide open from the intensity of her sadistic slaying. Currently content and dreaming, scattered images flash in this madman’s subconscious, visions of ultra-violent bloodshed flood his imagination. This sadomasochist is far beyond anything that’s good or evil. Nothing but darkness, as the wind whistles a lost requiem through the trees, into the blackened depths of the forest. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 202 [topic] => 13 [informant] => chadbrown [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 4 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
A Fine Line Between Poets And Madmen

Contributed by chadbrown on Tuesday, 25th January 2005 @ 07:36:50 PM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry



Deep in these dark, musty, backwoods there lies a long forgotten shack. Condemned from society, and far away from civilization or rational thought. Dead leaves cover the sour ground which surround this desolate shed. Once inside, a pungent stench seems to overpower the air and the walls are enveloped in old, peeling paint along with withered newspaper clippings. The only source of light in this dim woodshed is emitted from a small crack in the ceiling. A thin ray of pale moonlight shines down on a long metallic table, while insects scuttle silently across the abrasive floor. Upon this cold, dull surface, layered with grime and fungus, there are assorted rusted blades and hooks. Stained with the blood of innocence. Also placed on the table, a tarnished glass jar, filled with aged formaldehyde and a human hand severed at the wrist. An eternal memento. Close by, there lays a filthy mattress, soiled with blood and ejaculate. And atop this foulness, there rests a broken man, covered in infectious cuts and sores. Now breathing heavily, yet dead to the world, over exhausted from his sexual triumph. Next to him lays the lifeless, festering victim, completely inanimate, with an absence of her right hand. This decaying corpse is positioned face up, her blank, sterile eyes still wide open from the intensity of her sadistic slaying. Currently content and dreaming, scattered images flash in this madman’s subconscious, visions of ultra-violent bloodshed flood his imagination. This sadomasochist is far beyond anything that’s good or evil. Nothing but darkness, as the wind whistles a lost requiem through the trees, into the blackened depths of the forest.




Copyright © chadbrown ... [ 2005-01-25 19:36:50]
(Date/Time posted on site)





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Re: A Fine Line Between Poets And Madmen (User Rating: 1 )
by afterdark on Tuesday, 25th January 2005 @ 07:48:33 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)
I can at least relate to the title which got me..But the poem was a bit more weak..No offense it was good but could have been better.




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