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| End Of The World; Contest Entry | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Oct 8 2005, 04:10 PM (41 Views) | |
| Serge | Oct 8 2005, 04:10 PM Post #1 |
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Seal Evil
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This isn't about a charecter, as it is a story about what happens to a young boy at the end of the world. Enjoy. The hands of the clock begin to slow, As the young boys eyes watched the fire. Its heat began to mow, Taking away people’s hopes and desire. His eyes stared glued on the future, As it slowly was raped in front of his faithful eyes. It’s a slow painful torture, That await this young boys years. Soiled his eyes forever more, This tainted images has tore, And the insanity begins to pore. So this is his year, This year of never ending fear. The hands of Fate have slammed down, Is this god’s sad frown? The devils are loose, The strangling hands like a noose. And the lives of those that attempt to fight lose. This is this boy’s moments of hate, His life is now lost to his fate. Was this what was meant to be? Is this curse what’s left to see? The final message of god. This is the end of days, Trapped in this hopeless maze. Torment and Damnation await, This boy is never again to breath. He is strapped to his end, His mind slowly begins to bend. The blood curdles His mind sent over hurdles. Limbs strapped to the never ending torment that is near, The only thing that is left for him is fear. Lucifer has his soul now, The boy giving him a longing bow. He is no more the man he used to be, The life he used to see. Now he is the slave to man he used to fear, The man’s forcing him to leer. This young boy never will taste the fruits of hope again, Like he did before all this before anyone had thought this would begin. His mind stripped of its sanity, The mind stripped of vanity. He is not the man he wanted to be, He is a slave to what he has to see. Clouded by hates gaze, Leaving him in a constant daze. This world that remains, Is the shell of what it used to be. Nothing remains, not a single tree. Its burnt out and hollow. Air so thick its hard to swallow. There wings are now the cape of the man that claims, The man made of no hope and constant blame. And there the boy remains, No longer a boy but a man. His arms thin, His bones sticking through his skin. Those once blue eyes, Have turned oh so gray. That once warm skin, Has lost its tone to the cold. This story once told, Is truly one of old. This story grows more and more, As the saga begins to get to gain a large tore, A tore so large it breaks the fabric of reality. So this is what remains, The story once wonderful with life has come down to this. The boy that no one shall ever miss, This boy that has lost everything to the flames, Is someone we all know. This is someone the torment will make us be. That young boy is me. |
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6:43 PM Jul 10