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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

I find myself

Feeding my soul to the beast

It is not something from which I can run

Nor will it be appeased

 

It dwells within me,

In the depths of my mind

Playing with my doubts and fears,

Growing bolder all the time

 

...

 

I do not hurt,

Though my soul cries out in agony

I do not feel,

Though emotions swell within me

 

I find myself in darkness

Even in the light of day

An aura from within

One that's here to stay

 

...

 

I am but a puppet

Led on by my strings

Pulled by the beast of mine

And deeper, darker things

 

 

 

I've been thinking about writing. It seems like the two most inspirational things to a writer are love and tragedy. I think part of me would like to make a tragedy of myself...

Posted

Thanks for the comment. I'm not sure if a more gentle and happy muse would work for me. I suppose only time shall tell. As for the raw talent...well, I'm working on developing it. I don't know if it would be a good thing to do so, I think too much sometimes, and that spoils things for me. :)

Posted

Hmmm.

 

I'm over forty years old now, and I've finally come to the emotional realization (I'd intellectually give mental assent to the idea, but deep inside there was a part that (incorrectly) *knew*) that not everyone constantly thinks, no matter what they're doing. Or thinks about thinking. Or thinks about thinking about what others are thinking. Or thinks about what they're dreaming and 'tweaks' it to make it neater. Or thinks about the sensations and still thinks when they're drunk to the point of insensibility.

 

In other words, I may *NOT* be able to understand exactly your plight, but I think I may have empathy with it...

Posted

Your title reminded me of a book I'd read called The Rose and Beast.

 

Were you just exploring this concept, or was it something you deeply felt? Because I'm curious about this beast. The way I interpreted it, this beast may not a be a bad thing.

 

I find myself

Feeding my soul to the beast

It is not something from which I can run

Nor will it be appeased

I saw this as your own high standards that may not always be able to be met. I know that as an idealist myself, many of my goals are simply impossible to meet. At the end, you mention the beast and "deeper, darker things" and I saw that as self-doubt and your own fears.

 

What worried me most was not the beast per se, but your third and fourth stanzas. Apathy scares me most.

Posted (edited)

Apathy is my biggest supporter. :D

 

As for my beast, I suppose I do feel deeply about this, but I can't tell you what I meant by my beast, I'm afraid. That is for only me to know...

But however you see it is fine by me, we each see things differently, and this helps identify us as people.

Edited by Loki Wyrd
Posted (edited)

reminds me of a fight with addiction or depression or both... cold rage also could play a role, since depression inverted in effort to deal with it often turns into anger...well, at least for guys... or you could take the alternate route of conciously trying to turn off your emotions... which will ultimently build to a breaking point of sorts and unleash whatever you mind sought to suppress...

 

well that was fun...

 

 

yeah, i agree with rhap... lot's of apathy towards the end...

 

 

 

revery

the dreamlost

"reality seemed better in my sleep..."

the dream continues...

Edited by reverie
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