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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 02-June 10:26:41 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 108240
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Space
[time] => 2005-10-22 11:41:18
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => Space is a time that is not unreachable, solitude is not a name that is unteachable. Blurs of fierce shadows float in that space above my neck, that once known smell of sweet green grass has secum to the fury of pain akin to the mesh of metal that lie on that memoty; a run-down wreck. As my hands slip from the walls that held me still, pulling me deeper into nothing is the food that feeds its thrill. Farther, I cannot go into which there is no end; glare from the scope a feeling of energy sensed like a dream, a thing will send. To feel is a blur that space does not know, if thus shall happen, I will detect & let not show. How a blur has no name shall be called a word I was not told; told I was not the sense I feel to be cold. The focus of this space restores its order till now the black becomes of gray; the energy of distant scope I feel closer to my place of latter has silently urged me back, I cannot stay. I can feel the endless blurs to be of a nature so spurious, come to my chest to struggle the struggle to keep me near but so away with a rage so furious. The more of the space that grays out the black, I feel a beat within the space below my neck; the distance covered by mine I never did trek. Twas all a blur in the dark, once black gone gray, true form was concealed once before, now I can see thru the scope was nothing but an uncertain spec. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 147 [topic] => 13 [informant] => kareless [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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