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Array
(
[sid] => 168977
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Girl in the Wall
[time] => 2011-12-02 20:09:10
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => The crisp snapping of twigs and the crunching of leaves. Soft autumn air caressing barren trees. A light, sad tune reached mine ears As I stepped from the path, it rang more clear. My feet found the hollow from where the voice rang, Wondering if I could forget this day. The prettiest girl wrapped by a crumbling wall, Eyes the brightest blue as I stood in awe. She did not waver as those eyes caught mine, Giving me a nod as she continued her rhyme. Approaching with caution to absorb her warmth As I would the sun in a cold winter month. Her face did not move as it stared upon mine, Those expressionless features sending chills up my spine. I reasoned the song unnatural and dead, “So must be the damsel!” a voice screamed in my head. I picked up a brick to rebuild the wall, To silence her voice once and for all! She never resisted so I never asked But her tune grew violent as I continued my task. Brick by brick ‘till only one was left Cold eyes at the opening aware of her death. Slamming the brick into its place I was freed of the stare and angelic face. The song stopped sharply and silence fell, My knees hitting the ground of the now empty dell. That gorgeous song will not sound again All for the fear of what I could not understand. But it is too late for her heart has stopped The once beautiful angel now completely lost. Picking myself up, I searched for the path Racing away from the forest’s wrath. The wind it bit like a hell-hound unleashed, Trees ripping at fabric as I gained more speed. It knew I killed the songbird which gave it life, Now vowing to take mine to relieve its strife. I finally escaped into the light of the sun, Steadily slowing from my break-neck run. Out into the open I could forget my deed And the clear blue eyes that had pierced through me. My pace resumed now calm and sure, Swearing that I would never speak a word. Eventually I will forget with the passage of time For what is done, is done, so ends this rhyme. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 83 [topic] => 13 [informant] => LuckIrony [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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