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Array
(
[sid] => 109946
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Is it really?
[time] => 2005-11-17 19:00:45
[hometext] => Confused rumblings shooting through my head at 2 in the morning
[bodytext] => Sickened by these deaf tears, devoured by tireless worlds, defending without meaning, moving without achieving, grieving without saying goodbye, meaning without meaning. Walking, now running down the hallway, shadows give way as light enters bay, words echo in return... silence, now is time for deliverance. Flames errupt as seas consume, the dead cry as the living die, weeping never invented a cure, breathing never made you believe, heartless thoughts never made you reconsider, now why should there be forgiveness for a crime so much fitter? Hope is... not lost, forgiveness, breathing, loving, caring... all comes to an end. Dead smoke rises from the dusk till the dawn as the man hangs solemnly from his own strength, earth opens its chest and lays him to rest. Power echoes as weakness calls, shrouded by a cloud of misjudgement, sleeping with the enemy, breaking through these walls, destroying foundations... can`t we turn back time? Is it too late to love? too late to leave? too late to be leaving? too late to be giving? It`s never to late, too late comes when all chance you had is gone, but it`s never too late till that last tick of the clock of fate. [comments] => 3 [counter] => 172 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Kellros [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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