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Array
(
[sid] => 74919
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Mourning Sun
[time] => 2004-12-08 16:42:23
[hometext] => Inspired by too many fairytales.
[bodytext] => Sasha and Kirby are copyright to me. :) Silent Sasha is a young girl, With long hair, flowing and brown. Her eyes shine dark, like amber, Upon her brow there rests a crown. Entwined with shimmering silver, Glistening rubies and pearls, too. The final touch, a single star, Plucked from the sky, midnight blue. Silent Sasha cannot speak, She utters ne’er a word But speaks volumes with hollow eyes, Like lonesome mockingbirds. Her pouty pillow-lips, Soft and rosy red Were sewn together one fateful night, With dull needle and thread. She had the loveliest singing voice, Poor Silent Sasha dear. Humming lullabies like a babbling brook, Tinkling, soft and clear. But Sasha’s bitter sister Kirby, O how she envied her so! With her sweet voice and pretty face, It was time for Sasha to go! She took up a blunt needle, And strong thread made of white. She sewed her lips shut tightly, And stole her into the night. She dragged her through their palace, Out among the blackened trees Where the wild creatures stare, And death floats upon the breeze. She pulled Sasha through the grass, Kissed with the morning dew. She pushed Sasha into a ravine, Where pale pink blossoms blew. Down and down, poor Sasha fell, Through grass and weeds she sailed. Then, of a sudden, her descent ceased As her gentle heart was impaled. She watched her blood flow freely, O’er the cracked tree branch. With the dirt, blood mingled, And her skin began to blanch. As the mourning sun rose up, Above the horizon gold It swallowed the deceitful shadows And heated her body, cold. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 168 [topic] => 40 [informant] => blackmarker [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => fantasy )
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