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Array
(
[sid] => 3472
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Tale of The Corpse
[time] => 2002-09-06 20:17:34
[hometext] => This is just my dark, freaky side coming out...
[bodytext] => In my room all alone
I lay in a bed that does not belong to me, for nothing belongs to me; she doesn’t belong to me. I used to be a strong young flame burning with passions and pain, roaming the earth, followed by death. I’ve seen many heavens in my life but only one could be my wife - she was, before I even knew her. I gave my love to another flame, one who did not let me tame her radiance and light. Maybe that’s why she took flight. I opened up my fortified - with walls of anger and of flesh hunger - heart and ler her flame consume my flame. My hands touched upon her dark brow, so pure that even angels bow to it. This lioness’ mane - which brings forth by her absence rain in the hearts of men - covered my head during storms. My hands touched gold, my heart tasted heaven. But now that this untamed flame has left my hearth, and me leaning on the window pane, with such darkness and much pain, in a moment reminded me of disappointment. My hands motionless, decaying lay by what’s remaining of this wretched soul. On the yard I can hear the wind with leaves playing, telling them stories of lost loves., while I lay here dying, crying, for a love that’s gone, while I lay here craving heaven to nourish my soul for I cannot feed on loneliness or pain, so my strength will surely fade, fade for there is no flame, no love, in my dark and lonely soul. My hands lay by my side unable, unwanting, to touch anything more except for the flame of that young love. How can hands that carried heaven fall upon corrupted, earthly gore? [comments] => 2 [counter] => 171 [topic] => 13 [informant] => Corruptor [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => DarkPoetry )
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