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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 20:14:49 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 95170
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => The Embrace of Her Death
[time] => 2005-05-20 19:50:47
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Dusk set the begining of the embrace of her death. With both arms she held it tight. Heavy breaths of sorrow and regret were kept secret, as was, too, the struggless fight for her life. No one, nor thing, could have prevented the taking of her only conscious, herself. Yet every moment could have been forgiven if it weren't for the fake pity and the moments of unforgettable laughter that were bestowed apon her last toughts. Her only smile was wasted apon the gleaming radiance of her razor blade, which was soon to cure the depps of her bleeding tears that night. Her trembling words only spoke slience as she wrote her short goodbyes to the world that had forgotten her, left her to rot as she is doing now in her grave beneath the dirt. Hallowed be her name, she thought on the somber occasion. Yet hallowed was already her name. Damned was soon to be her slient grace, her cogent passion, her fall from faith, her thoughts permently to be forever erased. And it damned it was, almost too soon it would seem. She looked apon the razor, letting it glide through her vain, killing her slowly. No doubt she wanted to feel the only thing she had ever really known one last time- immensiable pain. It was like tasting wine for the very first time, like having that first moment of passion. This was what pain, death, felt like to her, and without emotion she was swept away from the fading world around her. She lay now in a puddle of mud, a patch of dirt, dirty, dead. No more shall she need to cry, to cut, to die, she made sure of that as she laied forth the end of her unrespected time. Her deeds were done, as was the worlds memory of her. She was then gone, as she still is and now it is clear that her own condemnation was the purest of moments. Be the blinds shut, the candles flame blown, no more shall she have to look in a mirror and scream, hide in the shadows, nor, be alone. No more shall she have to listen to the mocks, or spend another day in tourment. Forever she is now is she trully free to live as she wants- compleatly dead. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 216 [topic] => 39 [informant] => HallowedBeThyName [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => Grief )
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