The age of decadence

Dins my ears,

Fills my eyes,

Stifles my breath.

There is no escape,

Radio, TV, Video,

All pervade the senses.

Corrupt the taste,

Makes haste to beauty,

Charm, sensitivity.

How can character grow,

Beauty flourish, tastes improve,

Immersed in such cacophony,

Of gyrating, lewd, empty icons?

Mammon's lust, fetid breath,

Breathes on us all,

And rots the soul. By A Chattin

Bridgeman Street

Farnworth

Previous news story

Converted for the new archive on 14 July 2000. Some images and formatting may have been lost in the conversion.