Voila! In view, a humble vaudevillian veteran cast vicariously as both victim and villain by the vicissitudes of Fate. This visage, no mere veneer of vanity, is a vestige of the vox populi, now vacant, vanished. - Hugo Weaving as "V"
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*Smiles with in Solitude* - Page 3

User Thread
 38yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that Vortex271 is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
Actually a homework assignment for a course I'm taking...the style is called "sestina" or the format goes (Last word) 1,2,3,4,5, then 5,1,4,2,3, then 3,5,2,1,4, etc., etc. Quite fun.

Once time ago I finally began to feel the pain
Of life and love, and it grated upon my hope
For my bright future, although I never cried
I learned through time to beat back the tears and smile
And give the appearance of stability even as I fall
Deep into the darkest pit of regret.

Through time, there is nothing more I regret
Than allowing myself to feel this pain
For without the drag, I might not have fallen
and allowed myself to give up all hope
and bitten off my tongue in the midst of grim smiles
and prevented myself the ache of crying.

But now, I find myself unable to cry
For I have begun my attack against regret
The future my foil, my shield my smile
Of jolly resolve as I slaughter through past pain
And ahead, through the carnage, a beacon of hope
I run with everything, I fear not any fall

Though the field is slick, the colors of fall
Season of change, where Mother Nature cries
For the things that have been; it is my hope
That none of this will happen again, regret
Nothing, I have numbed myself to past pain
For the future is at the edge of the field, I smile

Without worry, my first truly honest smile
Ever since the beginning of my first fatal fall
Now, after all this time, I feel no pain
Tears flow like fountains, but I feel no urge to cry
In sorrow, forget humiliation, here's my new regret:
That I did not open my eyes to realize this holder of hope

And take her hand in mine, it now is my hope
To tear off this mask, and for the second time smile
And laugh and joke and fear no future regret
For the actions of now, I've had my great fall
And I've fallen to the ground, I DID NOT CRY
But now I honestly can barely remember that pain.

I have slaughtered Regret, and embraced the flame of hope,
It burns my being with a pain that makes my soul smile
And consumes the ashes of the fall, here now I will cry.

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""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
 38yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that neuterdbynature is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
I am in the presence of greatness,
my eyes open to the wonders around.
Your pain, those tears--there vividness alive through words.
I see you and feel you.
Your aches, your hopes, I transend through every word.
Tall tales that share a life time; words that paint a scene,
all this is seen through your thoughts and felt through your words.

I applaud your brilliance and your mind... [excuse my grammer and spelling its late ]

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"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
 38yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that Vortex271 is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
Thank you.

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""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
 38yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that Vortex271 is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
Steeling myself for another onslaught
an attack of the mind; on the mind
both sides armed to the teeth with fearsome weapons
and I stand alone
In the middle
between one side swathed in white
and another coated in darkest black,
I put out my unsheiled hands
and grasp a fearsome sword by the blade, blood flows
as a river o'er rocks; down my arm
and moistens the dirt I stand on.
I hold the sword and stare into the eyes of he who wields it.
I stare back,
eyes steely and cold, his black helmet gleams horrifically,
Bathing me in white reflection that chills me to the bone.
I squeeze, more lifeblood flows, I still stare at myself,
willing my eyes to posess as much steel as my memory.
The sword melts in my hand and drops to the moistened ground,
hissing metal that burns my skin on contact.
The swordsman, unarmed, falls to the spear of the white cloak.
I grab that, and with a feral snarl,
snap it to splinters, embedding them in my palm.
I throw the fighter to the ground and pull out my own weapon-
A pen.
I bury it in the heart of my foe.


I notice it's quiet, the fighting has stopped,
I rise and wipe the blood from my hands
both sides close around me, white, black, white black
The black's mace clangs against the white's scimitar,
they take no notice, they fix me with that steely stare.
Two of them, white and black, speak-
With my voice, in harmony and conflict:

"Whose side are you on?"

I spit my reply with acid,
it burns a hole in the cloak of the soldier in white,
and sears the hair of the footman in black.

"Mine."

They look to another, and bring thier weapons to bear,
and move together as one.

I ready my pen.

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""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
 38yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that neuterdbynature is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
I'm standing in the center, drowning in a sea of voices.
Can't quite find my way out, can't see the way through the white flames, which make up the walls surrounding me.
I'm locked in but I'm not alone.
Silence
The walls move with the rhythm of their hearts,
the movement of the ever-growing sea. Untamed waves of arms and legs,
which seem to be lost in the battle of those that came before me.
The voices scream, can't quite make out what they say...
My name is called, out of the millions that scream that one voice seems so clear, like the morning breeze.
I'm told I'm the key, the way out but the words are lost with in me, I can't seem to understand there meaning.
My arms become crystal clear, steam hovers over my skin, the walls have gotten closer
I'm fading away.
It burns, I don't understand why but it hurts. My ears begin to bleed, my tears burn crystal red.
The voices are louder, and the walls begin to reach out to me.
I'm silenced by the pain, yet I'm not afraid.
My heart beats like thunder. It echoes through the room.
Four chambers are opened, as the flames ignite the floor beneath me.
My body unseen, burned by my surroundings. Hurt by the helping arms.
The voice a silent echo. I comprehend its meaning.
I arise, my world so transparent, able to walk through the inferno that is my heart.
My soul, burnt to a crisp, charred by my ambitions and disappointments.
My burning tears flow like a river through out my structure, my body revived.
I open my eyes only to see the room has no walls,
I walk away, and leave behind my charred remains.

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"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
 38yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that Vortex271 is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
Wow, I closed my eyes after I read this and saw what you were saying instantly, and in frightening detail. Amazing job, Neutered.

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""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
 38yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that Vortex271 is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
We're dusting off the dancing shoes;
this heart is light and free;
The cannot be a happier math
At least as far as this man can see.
I've reverted back to the simplest meter
for complexity no longer hold's true,
the simple emotion of faithful attraction
is rebuilding this heart through and through.
I feel like I may run through the streets
(thoigjh caked with Ice they may be)
and sing my joy to a crowded room,
for I now have one to stand next to me.
Her face is of beauty, her mind of a spider's
a web so delicate and sheer
which can contemplate the world as it was meant to be seen
and knows very little of fear.
She's suffered through hardships and climbed out to the top
and now glows wiht a light that so shines
to think that all this time I was looking about,
those nearest were to be the best finds.

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""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
 38yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that neuterdbynature is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
You are a true artist with words, a masterpiece at your finger tips. Emotion in each line. cool

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"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
 38yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that neuterdbynature is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
I'm sitting there, nothing around me, at least nothing I can see.
[Drip, Drip] I hear water, or just the drips. It could be anything really.
Why am I so quick to assume that it's water?
Maybe I'm just trying to relax, maybe I'm trying to put my mind at ease, I mean, no I'm fine- everything's fine.
[Drip, Drip] It's getting louder. It's closer, but how, I haven't moved or have I?
I don't know anymore. My senses have been dulled, nothing makes sense.
What am I talking about? Concentrate!
I can't allow my self to be taken in. I can't allow my senses to be overwhelmed.
Control
Just be calm and Focus.
A breeze, I feel a breeze but I can't tell where it's coming from.
My hearts beating faster, something's coming, I can feel it.
[Silence]
Stand tall and don't let your fears conquer you.
I feel myself moving-the breeze is getting stronger.
The drops of liquid faint.
Darkness is everywhere, I don't think I can escape it
but I can walk through it with out fear.
I'm fine, I know what's around me, all I have to do is breath.
Be brave and don't allow the walls in my mind to cave in.

[Speaker]-'And now I present E. Nigma and her Presentation on the Human mind.'

Ok relax, ' Good evening, ladies and gentle man,'
Don't let the darkness silence you, be brave and let it guide you through the maze of words...

'The mind, its complexities can often get us lost but we must remember to never let it over whelm us or we will surely be left in the dark....'

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"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
 38yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that Vortex271 is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
My paintbrush scratches the surface of the canvas- no paint;
I seem to think that I can rip away the covering to the picture within.
But I must build the window, the palate beside me overflows
with reds, yellows, bues, greens, and blacks.
I close my eyes, dip my brush into crisp clear water and begin.
A foundation of white, purtiy upon imperfection,
It's not perfect, but the image of the mind is
though perfection of the mind can never be physical
it's nice to know it's impossible, but we can get close.
That's what I strive for.
Shadows of black take shape; the face begins to emerge
scaffolding on the skeletion, building up from the fabric
I haven't done this in so long, I've almost forgotten how it feels
to become a creator, when you paint, you are god;
everything is as your mind and heart see it; limited only by yourself
or in my case, the unsteadiness of my hand.
Reds and blues flow from my brush-tip,
the water isn't clean anymore, such is the price for building up
if we were to keep the waters crisp; we'd be going nowhere.
Sin? True, we drty ourselves in the process of realizing dreams
or simply trying to open a window to ourselves through a picture
we never can do it perfectly.
The face begins to move on the paper, guided by the brush
eyes, nose, lips, I check the mirror-
no, my eyes are a darker brown, a little black to the earth-tone
and half an hour later, I stand back to view my work.
I stare back,. and view my work.


It's not bad, a passing grade.
Pitiful a labor such as this deserves no more than a number.

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""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
 38yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that Vortex271 is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
The floorboards creek beneath my padded feet;
stealth is worth nothing now; if I can hear me coming, all is lost;
I'm found again, the door is flung open
and I am blasted back by white light pouring in like a tsunami
burying me behind memories that have long sinced dimmed
and reilluminating my eyes, snapping my pale self from the night
which I've inhabited so long; I've forgotten the warmth of sunlight;
now my skin takes it in like a child reaching for a mother's breast;
nourishment better than any synthetic formula; there truly is
no substitute for reality. Fresh air! I need never eat again;
I'm filled by beauty of the world about me.
The windows of my room are flung open; though winter still reigns
the chill is barely noticable to once-numbed skin.
Clearing out the mustiness of the past few months, I disembark
this coaster I've ridden for the past few months, I've had enough.
I can't say it was fun, but I can say I've learned a bit-
never look too far ahead, for that next turn, the next loop-
for you forget the people sitting next to you,
and you completely miss the present, now the past, it runs away
like water through outstretched fingers, you can grab all you wish,
it comes-
it goes, like it or not.
And I hand in my ticket, smile at the lady behind the desk, and walk out the front gates.
Into the afternoon, smiling like a schoolboy.
Is life not grand? or is it my perception of it? Now that these eyes
have been opened for the first time.

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""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
 38yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that neuterdbynature is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
Pushed and shoved
There is nowhere out
Rush hour, no time to stop.
There are millions of them everywhere.
I search frantically for a way out
A crack, a slit, any shimmer of light.
Nothing, too many, trampled and lost.
Scared and alone, I begin to panic, to over think.
My shouts and pleads are absorbed by the horde.
Faceless and shapeless,
They all look the same, a maze with in the crowd.
Pressure rises, my surrounding decrease
No more room, I can't breath, I can't see.

A hand on my shoulder, a calming voice,
Her nurturing hand helps me through the field of formless shadows.
Her face, unknown, yet I know her.
Everything of hers is familiar.
I'm not lost anymore,
Away from the swarm
No more fears, I'm ok.

I open my eyes,
No, she's gone.
My mind is playing tricks on me
The pressure is getting to me,
The fear blinding.
She can't help me anymore,
Her touch a faint memory.
Her smell lost in the wind.
I'm alone, but not lost.

I don't need her anymore.
I know my way.
The path is clear,
The web of shapeless figures is no longer an issue.
A crack of luminous light guides my way.
My knowledge of the past and of what's to come has helped me cut my way through the static of negative forms.

I am no longer a child,
I've emerged from the shadows,
A shield of wisdom and knowledge helps me transcend and ascend.


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"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
 38yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that Vortex271 is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
Liberate the frozen rose with your breath;
part the clouds with the point of your finger;
shatter the lock of this heart with a smile-
This is what she does to me.
Through song and story she lightens the world,
while showing naught of faults- a light reserved
only for the angels glows about her,
skin of glory, hair of song,
fingers of velvet and mind of long-stemmed roses
beautiful and sharp; that is truely she;
This is my Valentine.
And though I offer naught but roses
chocolate
poetry
and myself, I pray that this offering be suitable,
though I never can completely pay
what she has done for this soul.

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""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
 38yrs • F •
A CTL of 1 means that neuterdbynature is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
They prod, and poke
Like a angry dog tide to the wall,
I can do nothing but stand there.
Lesion over lesion,
Scars that never heal
I am damaged,
Beaten down by words as sharp as blades.
Whipped by the stares of shame,
As if breaking down my every being like a puzzle piece.
Driven to the point of murder,
To the point of dishonor.
Hurting the innocent in order to get to those that cause only harm.
Tide to the wall like animal,
Maybe it's best I stay that way.
Beaten but not defeated

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"What a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive"
 38yrs • M •
A CTL of 1 means that Vortex271 is a contributing member of Captain Cynic.
Surfing over a lake of fire
my board cuts lava like a hot knife
and throws a wake of flame behind me, I ride
the waves, the spray singes my face,
I inhale, the vapor fills my nostirls
filling me with the acrid smell of burning hair.
The sunglasses I wear are fogged with sulfur;
the plastic melting on contact with molten rock.
I lean forward, a wave rises up behind me,
a rising giant's fist, bearing me upon the knuckle.
I open my mouth, the red hot gobules fly in;
I pay no notice, I yell with a joy
as great as one who's conquered the mountains,
for now I ride the fire that once consumed me,
it bends to my will, I channel fire
left and right, up and down,
I still lack control, but my hands no longer singe
upon contact, I grasp the stream.
I dive into the valley below, fire follows,
my vision filled with flames and liquid rock,
sloshing, sloshing, threatening to erupt,
but I no longer fear the fire-

I've got to be careful, or I might lose focus,
might be burned in my confidence.
For while I reign over the fire below, my board slices through
there still is a wave crashing down behind me,
and if I'm not careful;
it might land right on top.
Beware Confidence. When you're sure you have control;
that's when you burn.

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""As I sit before the fire, I wonder how many before myself have been burned.'"
*Smiles with in Solitude* - Page 3
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