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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 20:36:02 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 91755
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Dark Hell
[time] => 2005-04-21 16:02:24
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Dark there is nothing, walking down, still nothing smell of decay and death, but still nothing, the cape that hangs on your sholders drags the cold damp dark floor, this but nothing more, some stairs, then your in the deepest pits, body bleeding oozing gore, some decaying on the floor, others hang by limbs from the celing, other crucifyed,mangled and headless, this is what you think that hell is, you find your tresure, but its not what you think not gold nor riches, alone on the floor near the hole in the wall a tatered and torn, the broken girl hides, not beautiful anymore. take her hand help her up your tresure, from the hell you saught to find [comments] => 2 [counter] => 160 [topic] => 13 [informant] => keila [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 5 [ratings] => 1 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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