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Array
(
[sid] => 1880
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => An Epic for Lost Cassandra
[time] => 2002-08-07 06:18:55
[hometext] => This was inspired by the character "Cassandra" who features in a novel I'm currently writing.
[bodytext] => The moon rose as the blades cried rippling Over meadows laced with ghostly light And as she ran blindly through those fields The autumns skeletons took their flight. But she was not afraid for she Just previously that day Had walked over the crimson carpet They had laid to ease her way. The entangled threads of material worn Danced frayed about her thighs And as she ran the stars looked on, With hopeful, pitying eyes. There were now a dozen cuts From the hostile branches thrown By the timeless storms, onto the floor Leaving the sea of lace torn. The cuts, they dried and blood denied To trickle upon the blades. So on she ran till soon at hand Was a mask of shadow-lit shade. Here she stopped as seed pods popped Untimely in dead of night, But who could resist some emotional cyst Exploding at the picturesque sight? This evenings plaits are spun from silver And the airs texture so thick If perception of beauty could cure all ills This dark heaven could heal the sick. Cassandra, she wanted to save it all Bring it home to a soul who would care, But as if the only soul, permitted to see This radiance was already there; The night enclosed around her Became a cushion of unspoiled sleep Completely alone and yet so distant from home, The comfort was suffocatingly deep. So the finger-like vines firmly held her Securely she held onto life And as the blades, continued to cry Under the great taunting winds mocking strife, She threw her mind at the blindness of friendship The blindness of them to the real The wonders that dark night could show her And the secrets she would have to conceal. Lost among warmth and adventure she dreampt, The first peaceful dream of her life Whilst defiant forces rushing straight through her Sharpened the edge of her knife. [comments] => 1 [counter] => 200 [topic] => 40 [informant] => Phildel [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 19 [ratings] => 4 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => fantasy )
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