Zitat von navre am 18 August, 2007, 1747 Uhr

First a little backround, what poem do I post after all with out a little speail?
Down in the plaza in brussles, they have arcitechure that any good photographer would kill for. M take note... Black and white sunset photos as the sun sets over the main square basillica. Non the less down one of the alleys is a quaint little bar that you would not be able to find on your own or sober... It used to be an old Mortuary My friends and I who go there on occasion call it the "Coffin Bar" why simple it used to be an old mortuary and the tables are made of old caskets some with lids some with out and various coffin lids decorate the walls. and the only light comes from black and red ambiance lights and sparce candles. All manner of drink is served but the main feature is the beer which is cerved in cermaic skulls in a doubble portion... Ahh but here's the rub, its not a goth bar. they dont play goth music. they play what ever the bar keep wants from gospal in the day time " it's true" to 80's hair bands in the night, Of the times I have been there it just screams atmosphere )) the only way I could truly see it improving was if they played old school "goth" music like sisters of mercy or something along those lines" and I have cursed myself for not bringing writting materials, but this last time I was in luck and thus with my speil over I give to you....

Looking glass

Plain...Non-descript
It is this door
We cross over, into the dark lands,
To sup... from the font of youth
Yet,... here...
Amidst the dead we gather,
Hallow eyes, and Crimson stained.
Brazen faces...
Hide the darkest secrets
Deamons all...
Here no need to hide...
Yet, ... across the threshold
Shadowed amongst the light,
Saints they wear.

The Works of Na`vre