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Welcome !	Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link	11-June 05:47:27 AEST

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Array ( [sid] => 97031 [catid] => 1 [aid] => mick [title] => The Changing Of Seasons [time] => 2005-06-06 11:14:02 [hometext] => to whom this poem is about....you know who you are... [bodytext] => Things will become better,
once the winter dies,
all the ashes are cleared away,
and the screams,
that echo from your soul,
are banished.

Whisked away,
like a rabbit in the headlights of god,
We are stuck,
with the same repeating,
ever beating,
heart of a reverse fairy tail.

Stomach the acid inside,
Theres nowhere to run,
And less space to hide,
We live in an infinite vaccum,
space it seems,
is louder than we though.

Death in a suitcase,
packed on your doorstep,
with the insurance,
that all your best wishes,
Are finalised,
Laid out for your children to see.

Guns in the attic,
TV on static,
And a nagging suspicion,
That the ghouls are watching,
Their eyeless faces,
Seeing more than eyes could.

You saw the future,
Saw life as a tutor,
But now this lesson,
Is over before it started,
Like so many raindrops,
In the gutters of life.

And when you reach your grave,
To see if your memory reflects,
These changing of seasons,
You will only see this;
Nothing but an empty reality,
Soulless....
No Humanity.... [comments] => 3 [counter] => 206 [topic] => 13 [informant] => ripper_something_unusual [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 9 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )

The Changing Of Seasons

Contributed by ripper_something_unusual on Monday, 6th June 2005 @ 11:14:02 AM in AEST
Topic: DarkPoetry

Things will become better,
once the winter dies,
all the ashes are cleared away,
and the screams,
that echo from your soul,
are banished.

Whisked away,
like a rabbit in the headlights of god,
We are stuck,
with the same repeating,
ever beating,
heart of a reverse fairy tail.

Stomach the acid inside,
Theres nowhere to run,
And less space to hide,
We live in an infinite vaccum,
space it seems,
is louder than we though.

Death in a suitcase,
packed on your doorstep,
with the insurance,
that all your best wishes,
Are finalised,
Laid out for your children to see.

Guns in the attic,
TV on static,
And a nagging suspicion,
That the ghouls are watching,
Their eyeless faces,
Seeing more than eyes could.

You saw the future,
Saw life as a tutor,
But now this lesson,
Is over before it started,
Like so many raindrops,
In the gutters of life.

And when you reach your grave,
To see if your memory reflects,
These changing of seasons,
You will only see this;
Nothing but an empty reality,
Soulless....
No Humanity....

Copyright © ripper_something_unusual ... [ 2005-06-06 11:14:02]
(Date/Time posted on site)

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Re: The Changing Of Seasons (User Rating: 1 )
by Stellar on Monday, 6th June 2005 @ 11:41:03 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Great imagery! I loved it.

~Stellar

Re: The Changing Of Seasons (User Rating: 1 )
by hauntedscorp on Monday, 6th June 2005 @ 11:47:54 AM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Very interesting read. Some unique thinking. I like the line; "Stomach the acid inside; there's nowhere to run, and less space to hide..." Nice job!
Scorp.

Re: The Changing Of Seasons (User Rating: 1 )
by vibes2go on Monday, 6th June 2005 @ 01:01:46 PM AEST
(User Info | Send a Message)

Being a person who suffers from paranoia; I always dread poetry that is dedicated to "you know who you are .. but it was very discriptive and well written. You write very well ...as if I am any judge ...

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