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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 22:26:05 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 57628
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Finality
[time] => 2004-07-26 14:02:38
[hometext] => 7-26-04
[bodytext] => The world I know is made of hurt, Where passive voices lie inert, And evil heralds all assert, Their endless power to convert. Every day is met with shame, While cowardly fingers point to blame, The simple ones who bear the flame, For the one who has no name. Bloodlust and gore grow in our streets, Where lawless hoards rule wicked beats, And will until the darkness eats, Our immortal souls,and then retreats. Black rain falls from tainted skies, As all green life around me dies, And the air is filled with mourners cries, Along with locusts,gnats,and flies. The end,I feel,at last is near, For vileness is all I hear, Commixing with the scent of fear, Destroying all that I hold dear. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 223 [topic] => 13 [informant] => slayer_015 [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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