Alone in a sea of anguish, alone in a stream of contempt. Alone in a crowd of millions, alone with in souls of the dead. Yet darkness does not consume me, and sadness does not overwhelm. A smile that’s lost in the shadows, a smirk that’s reflected through tears. I'm happy with in my own sadness. I am happy with in my own fears. Complete and yet flawed. Complete! That is all.
"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
The shadows reach out and vainly attempt to pull my sore body to the depths of contempt, while the vulture above, in its untimely gain adds on to the torture with the pleasure of pain. Along with the wind, bearing dust that so stings it makes me forget all happier things. And yet, when I see the light up ahead, I run with the vigor of a soul which is dead. But life waits before me, in the cool of the stream, I wake up and realize this is all just a dream; a fabrication of the mind, in an effort to teach me and I start my day with shadows attempting to reach me.
""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
[ Edited by Vortex271 at
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I'm known by many names, and seen in many forms. I'm nowhere! I have no limitations, yet I'm restricted by life. I'm somewhere! Roadblocks and one ways surround my outer walls, while mazes and riddles consume my inner thoughts. I'm everywhere! My form is lost, my names forgotten, the walls collapse, my thoughts wide open. Lost, I'm LOST! Restricted, conflicted. Surpassing, and lasting I'm here!
"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
You can look down from the clouds and wonder- how many lives are progressing through time down there? How many people are trying to cope? How many people are searching for impossible answers? How many people are ending thier lives in dispair? And how many are born with hopes and dreams? And as you sit, the final question arises in this wonderful and fatal net of the mind:
How many are looking back at you?
""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
thats great.... Those are the questions that consume our souls that darken our souls. Questions whose answers elude us, deceive us, and sometimes destroy us.
nice work vortex
"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
Close minded, I'm outside looking in and yet I'm close minded. So much anger, So much hate. It's born with in all of us and it never dies. So angry and yet apathetic. A killers instinct which calms the storm that clouds my thoughts. My anger blinds me, my hate deafens me, yet I still see and I still hear. Close minded, and yet I'm able to look into the world and see the truth I'm able to see reality, to see life.
[the most cheerful one I've ever writen, don't you agree]
"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
We all are born with that spark that ember of hatred glowing within. It drives us to act in ways unacceptable to the world (unacceptable to those with embers same as you) and yet, as life drives on that ember dies. To be consumed by the fire of life and crumble away to nothingness, melt into the flames. Or it grows, nurtured by teaching, enviornemnt, it burns brighter the power multiplying. Until it burst into a wall of black fire and consumes the soul of man.
""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
Clear skies and shining mornings are before me. Roads paved in gold, and mountains of silver. A dream around every corner, a smile in every home. Happiness is around me with no end in sight. A mask, that’s all it is. A mask. Hidden before me are empty shells of sorrow. Mountains covered in shame, roads colored carnage. Skies of grey. Tears and pain. Destruction that lies with in. Complete genocide, complete emptiness.
this is the soul of man, a soul which lives with in all of us...
"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
What kind of monster have I become? Superficially, I am well. Skin, hair, everything is fine. Eyes...windows to the soul within. What kind of mad vortex spins behind? Energy crackles, the machinery of life turns again. Take everything from the inside, and throw it all away. Don't look me in the eye, society says no. Watch as I smile and move about, like any other man. Watch as my mind slowly tears me down. Watch the soul- see it move.....
Do I not hide my inside so well?
""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
A sweet symphony, which plays with in my heart. A work of art, which is constructed in my mind. The pages of my soul become bitter masterpieces. And I, a sculpture for the eyes of the scorn. In death I am appreciated, in death I'll be well known. But until then unknown I'll be, forgotten till I’m gone.
"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
May the joy of my heart be the songs of my toungue may it spill out to the seasoned or to those just begun who still are attempting to find a hold for thier feet, and a grip for the hand- may they all feel my beat As we all together scale this great cliff of life o'er the sheer drop of darkness- we'll conquer the strife. And though I may fall and drop to the depths ere below My last words as I'm plunging will be "Move, damnit, GO!" Do not weep for me; for I'll not cry for you, I'll do what life here reqires me do. I'll dig me in deeper, and resume my hard climb, but in consolation, my purpose in life is now thine.
""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
, don't you agree