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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 20:06:48 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 4687
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => dESTRUCTION aRT
[time] => 2002-10-06 16:15:00
[hometext] => This one comes from a painting I had recently seen...not much more to tell.
[bodytext] => This place seems dark and dusty,
And smells of stale stones, People don’t say too much in here, As all their lips are sewn. They’ve been made to fill the blood well, Something put the fear of hell in them, Flesh means little to them anyway, They’re all just tiny skeletons. They say when you’ve been here for some time, You’ll pray to be alone, Away from spit and pools of self, Organs, hate and bones. Invisible flames reach for your face, To try and strip you skin away, The freezing touch of razor cuts, Counts away your blackened day. A thousand darkness candles, Make this entire world turn dull, Overwhelming pleasure decadence, Brains entwined into the skull. They pass the plate around the hall, And collect some new infections, Tortured and stabbed, burnt and bound By my own intestines. I find myself here covered again, In tyrannies scolding soil, So quickly a brand new plan is etched, More quickly a plan is foiled. This endless maze of mine screams out… Something like completion, An argument and it begins, White blood cell sick depletion. A blunt but a diseased blade, For a shock into the system, In the end this bleeding moon, Was always to be my victim. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 193 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Damon_Maynard [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 15 [ratings] => 3 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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