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[mastahcheese]

That made me sad. Very well done.

Remind me not to write poetry when I'm having mood swings.

This is what happens.

I make goblins cry.

[Tiruin]

I cried a lot there MC.
You are a great poet.
Haven't had my emotions run me through in...a month post-[STUFF] happening.
Thanks for that.

[TD1]

 

No poem has ever made me cry before.

[mastahcheese]

...Thank you guys.
It means a lot.

[Arx]

You write really good poetry, mastah. In case you hadn't worked it out already. 

[Digital Hellhound]

I love the structure of this poem. The right-hand left-hand split gives it a very unique/cool/interesting feel. Also like the repeating of 'Oh,'-sentences and the sort of 'collapsing' ending, with the bits becoming ever shorter, simpler, etc. Very well done, really.

(As you can see, I've forgotten all the terms of English poem analysis.)

[hops]

It made me feel bad about not feeling bad, at any rate.

[GiglameshDespair]

Some of the rhyming felt really forced to me, MC,  and the language used seemed to vary a bit schizophrenically. Personally, I would say I'm not a fan of it, though I doubt mine would be much better 

[mastahcheese]

Well.
I've spent today debating on whether or not to post this.

Why not.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

As I sit here wondering
Where it all began
How or why, this prison of mine
Shackles and chains, recession of the mind
From doubt, it spawns hatred
Not for the captor, but for the self
It's self consuming, tearing away
And leaving only empty strands
Dark pits and shallow graves
Of the thoughts I'd like to have
If my mind knew freedom

And yet I watch you
Master of your domain
Eyes rolled back
Deep within your brain
Yet silently holding on
To your poison
And where is your mind, without you
Laying face down in the pool
As I watched
As I ponder
For freedom lay in front of me
Should I choose to take it
And yet I reach in
And climb down
And pull you to the concrete shore
Wondering if you'll even remember
But you don't

And so I lie here, taking all your punishment
Your cruel words and vindication
Your harsh deeds and implication
Like a lash from a belt
Yet you still think you're better
For never laying a hand on me
Yet you knew
For I was not afraid
I held the sword and ran it though
Waiting for a chance
Waiting for you to give me reason
But you didn't

I remember while you slept
With an axe in my hand, I thought
I could end it all and be done
While you snored away I raised my hand and stopped
To savor the moment
But to bring it down I could not
As much as I wanted
Your life was not mine to take
But my own was
It was then I saw how meekness really felt
For I still feel the water in my lungs
To this day

Taking in this moment to breathe
Sitting in the dark
Alone, but not afraid
Desperate, but not ready to jump
A secret just to cry
A sin, to stay alive
To know more than "survive"
I wait for the day
That I leave this prison a second time

For who were you
To say you knew
To say you'd save me from my captors
To say you knew anything about me
My sorrow, my frustration
My dark heart of temptation
To be free?
That I could relate
No, you never understood
I took what was left of me
To put back the pieces of you
But looking back, now it's clear to me
It was never my choice to choose

To be lead from a prison
In cuffs and restrains
To be sent to a new cell
Oh, how I wish I knew
If only had I seen
What was right in front of me
But I was blind to the truth
That what it really was
Was a victory
Not for me, but you
But now I see the truth
That two shackles are just as cold
Regardless the reason they're worn
Or the season they were wrought

Look at me now
Staring at dark clouds with envy
Wishing not that I could fly
Or sail the open skies
But simply to be unrestrained
To be let out of this jail
For a sentence never stated
For a crime never committed
But to be known
As I look out into the night
Eyes heavy and worn
Wanting to get up and run
To never come back
To never say a word
To reach out into the night
And find the freedom I've so richly yearned for
But here I stand
On the verge of light from a rusty cell
And the maw of darkness reaching to consume
To follow a heart
Thats long forgotten the meaning of truth

So tell me father, is this what you wanted?
Or for me to walk away
To watch you drown
To bring the axe down?
Thrice times, I saved your life
Would you rather me watched you die?

So tell me brother
As I walked away, and you wouldn't even say my name
Wouldn't even look at me
Where are you now?
Still living in the home
That for me was a prison?
And tell me, sister, did you find your fame?
Left your lover in the dust
For your best friend's crush?
Or did you forget?
Forgot how you said that my heart was dark
Too blind to see the evil in you
But I still remember
I still bear the scar

And tell me, mother, are you happy still?
The only one that never wanted me dead
And you still left me to die
But at least that memory is only in my head
Since the helmet took the pain for me
And saved my life
When you never cared to try
I hope you're happy still

But who am I to sit here
To be angry at others
To want them to know my pain
As I sit here still in chains
In shackles, in pain
Weeping alone in shame
Because forget what I say
I'm the one to blame
If I'm the one who started this
I'll end it all the same
And so I sit and await the day
That will walk away
To cast off these eternal restaints
That keep me from knowing myself
Because never before have I truly seen
The self that is beneath me
The thing that no one wants to see
The person I'd really be

Still I sit here listening
To thunder crashing around me
Bring it down and shake the heavens
Let me hear your calls
Looking up to dark clouds
Wishing to move on
But sitting here, I stand still
Aching to move along

But should I even carry on?
A self too evil to let live
A heart too dark to let persist
Should I cease my icy breath
And submit myself to death?
Maybe it really is me
And I simply won't see the truth
That everything that happens to me
And everything that I've ever done
And here to teach me why
My life would be better undone
Or are these thoughts
Of a blade of light
To end what I have become
Simply the work of those who'd love
To see my body broken
And sanity laid to waste
Or am I already gone?

Good night, Bay12.

[Anvilfolk]

Geez, mastah...

That was intense...

And also really good.

[TD1]

Wowza.

That's some...intense and...perhaps unhealthy feeling, Mastah.

You really need to resolve things there, for better or worse, because you shouldn't have to live through what you're feeling.

[mastahcheese]

Wowza.

That's some...intense and...perhaps unhealthy feeling, Mastah.

You really need to resolve things there, for better or worse, because you shouldn't have to live through what you're feeling.

Well, I don't live with my real family anymore, so...
Yeah.

It's a process.

[Doomblade187]

Wowza.

That's some...intense and...perhaps unhealthy feeling, Mastah.

You really need to resolve things there, for better or worse, because you shouldn't have to live through what you're feeling.

Well, I don't live with my real family anymore, so...
Yeah.

It's a process.

Well, glad to hear that much if the poem is any indication. I might toss something up soon.

I felt the poem was really well done and compelling, for the record- any possible 'mistakes' were erased by the passion of the poem.

[Arx]

To add some prose to the thread, have some stuff about Space Australians*.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

The Lena systems. Six planets, twelve moons; one interstellar landing port. The landing port was exactly that, with no facilities for take-off. No-one left Lena, except in spirit, or to put it in a colourful but inaccurate idiom, in a box.

Siase turned from the window of her delivery pod with a sigh. Six planets, twelve moons; all part of the Luminant Empire, but never able to shine. Not with the kind of people populating them. Not just thieves, murderers, and rapists; Lena was reserved for the lowest of the low, delivered in unmanned pods and left to fend for themselves. She herself was one of them, although she liked to think of her crime in a more innocent manner: she merely won a wager. The wager itself was the serious part, a tipsy bet made with a friend that she could kill a soldier if she caught them unawares. As it turned out, she could, although the twenty that then tracked her down afterwards proved more complicated.

Her attention was pulled back to the present as the pod swung into orbit around one of the planets, sheets of orange plasma covering the window as the vehicle’s outer layers burned off on the way down to the dock. The only amenities maintained by the Luminance were two planetary bases and three in-systems ferries; everything else was built and maintained by the inmates. For all that, there was very little chance of escape, as the last time Siase had heard there were only about fifty people in the galaxy with the skills and equipment to build the achasi engines required to circumvent the speed of light. Anyone without those engines would only be able to make it so far before hitting the glass wall of fuel loss, forced to either turn around or face an eternity drifting in the unbearable beauty and exposure of deep space.

Siase’s legs folded beneath her as the pod hit the deceleration field that led into the dock, nearly whipping her head into the wall as the edge of the field violently spun the ship. The trajectory was shoddily plotted, but then she supposed they weren’t going to spend valuable processing seconds on a prisoner when they could be hurling cruisers across the galaxy. After all, it didn’t matter to anyone else if a mistake dashed her brains out onto the bulkhead, but more important heads would roll if a destroyer was accidentally used to slam a planet out of orbit. Gendered-type humanoid 51A53 “Siase”; the least important member of the Empire of the Light to everyone but herself.

The interminable journey shuddered to a halt as the pod slipped into a docking tube and the door slid open. Siase haltingly walked out, unsure of her legs after an eternity without gravity, yet eager to be free of her tiny box. Right now she would be happy to spend an immortal’s lifespan in this aviary, so long as she could breathe fresh air; air that wasn’t tinned, and hadn’t been recycled a thousand times. Better yet, she couldn’t see the walls of this cage, let alone stretch her arms out and touch both sides. If she ever decided she needed to get back into a space can, she would be flying it herself, stretching her wings. Not too far, but far enough to keep her happy. She wasn’t one of those galaxy-roaming types that would take service aboard a new craft every month. As long as her fellow inmates were willing to leave her alone, she could be as happy as could be expected here.

As always, any and all criticism requested and appreciated.

*Well, it's a space penal colony. Same thing, right?

[Doomblade187]

On that prose note...

Spoiler: It Was a Beautiful Night (click to show/hide)

It was a beautiful night, and the stars burned bright above as Mern strode through the double doors out onto the porch of the house. Quickly scanning the barren landscape visible through the posts, she silently cursed, checking her pistol's ammunition before stepping out onto the sparse grasslands.

Walking slowly as she searched for a glimmer of light or movement, she began to shake a bit as she moved away from the house. At first it was just a mere tremor in her hands, a simple insecurity of grip. However, before long, it reached a point where her hands were full on shivering, almost unable to even hold a basic grip.

She cursed again, tightening down her grip on the weapon and taking a step forward. Her brother was nowhere in sight, and they hadn't heard from him for a while now. In all honesty, she didn't really think that the opposition would range this far out, but with the country as it was, she really didn't want to risk it.

Not with what had happened to their parents.

She ducked behind a car and pulled out a phone, giving it a call against her best judgment. She had tried before, but received only voicemail, and no response from that. But, she didn't want to venture out into the grasslands with only a pistol in full view of potential snipers, so she figured it was the better choice. Dialing the number, she put the phone to her ear.

And it picked up.

Unfortunately, it wasn't her brother. No, it was a different voice, deeper, smoother, and slightly more menacing. "Am I speaking to Mern?" he asked.

"Yes, that is me. Where's my brother?"

"Don't worry. He's somewhere safe- we need to have a talk with you, and we needed someone to make sure you would all show."

"That makes no sense."

"Exactly. Now go back in the house. I'm getting tired of waiting."

"Why should I?"

"If you see your brother again, you will. Now go."

"And how do I know he's even alive?"

"One second," he said, the phone going mostly silent as they handed it around. Finally, she heard a voice crackling through the line.

"Sister. I'm alive. Come up. You need to hear what they have to say," her brother's voice said.

She put down the phone- the mystery speaker had hung up on her. Sliding it back into her pocket, she shakily stood up. What did they want? Could she trust them?

Did she have a choice?

Well, yes, she did, but that choice could result in some very bad things happening to her brother, should they be telling the truth. Steeling
herself, she took a step back towards the porch and marched inside.

The bottom floor was empty, so far as she could tell, and while she didn't see any lights on upstairs, she didn't see anywhere else they
could be- the house didn't have a basement, and the storm cellar was a good thirty feet from the house.

Problem is, they weren't upstairs. Every room was dark and empty, her panic-stricken search showed. Strained, she sat down on a chair in the master bedroom and pulled out her phone, intending to redial the number.

The rifle pointed at her face discouraged her.

Snapping her vision back up to see the threat, she found herself dissuaded by a tactical light shining directly into her eyes. She considered diving to the side, but the man's steady hold on the rifle showed that it probably wouldn't end well for her. Frozen, eyes focused at the ground and blinking, she heard the voice from the phone say two simple words, "Wait here."

He, however, didn't move. Seeing how she didn't have much chance to disobey, she decided to wait and see. A minute later, she heard footsteps walking into the room, and as her captor glanced to check who it was, she went to the side, letting the chair hit the ground behind her as she went for her pistol.

Problem is, it wasn't there.

Another problem, her captor was now pointing it at her.

"Don't move. And please don't try anything else for a while. I'd hate to have to shoot you. Not when you have such potential," he said,
before handing the pistol back to her, grip first.

Confused, she took it, holstering it, her eyes still on her captor. "Your brother is this way," he said, gesturing for her to follow.
He led the way down the stairs, his companion falling in behind her, shotgun in hand. They exited the house, and turned towards the storm cellar. His companion opened the doors, and her captor led her through into the cellar proper and into an interesting scene.
Her brother was standing with three other soldiers dressed the same as her captors, all holding rifles. His hands were not tied behind his back, and he actually had a rifle similar to that the others were holding slung over his right shoulder. The overhead lights were on, and the furniture and shelves were undisturbed.

"Hello," her brother said, nodding towards her.

She ran to hug him, but was intercepted by one of the soldiers next to him. She struggled for a moment, then realized what she was doing and stopped, taking a step back and brushing herself off.

"Why are you here?" she asked, turning to the man who had brought her here.

"I'm glad you asked. I am Agent 7, and we're here to talk to you about your parents."

She paused at this, gritting her teeth before slowly replying, "I don't want to hear anything else about my parents. They're dead. They were assassinated in broad daylight and nobody noticed their very obvious bodies for five hours, and now everyone's afraid to associate with us, even our supposed allies and the agency they worked for."

The agent nodded to himself for a moment, then carefully spoke. "Well, who do you think killed them?"

She rested her hand on the grip of her pistol and answered, "Argonoi."

"That's a lie," he said.

She drew the pistol and pointed it at his head, taking careful aim. "And why do you say that? Are you an agent of theirs? Well?"

Her brother answered her question. "Because it was Thern that did it," he said.

She paused before turning her head to speak to him, "And they have you believing this too? Well? Are you working for Argonoi too?"

"Well, the email they showed me, as well the picture of the person who killed them was rather convincing. I suggest you take a look."

She looked back towards Agent 7, only to find that he was offering her a small packet of papers. "What are these?" she asked.

"Your parents' case file. From the security breach we caused a month ago."

"So you do work for Argonoi."

"Yes. Please just read it."

She thought it over for a second, turning to her brother for feedback before shifting the pistol to one hand and taking the stack of papers.
He eyes opened wide, and she sat down at the table, spreading the papers out before her. Thirty minutes passed as she read the documents, the evidence of her parents' entire life. By the time she was done, she was calm again, but it wasn't a very angry kind of calm.

She stood, having long since holstered her pistol. Letting out a long breath, she looked Agent 7 in the eyes.

"I believe you," she said.

"Good. Jim, would you do the honors?"

She perked at her brother's name, and turned to look his way. "Well, it seems you understand now. Are you going to join me? In doing justice?" he asked her, meeting her eye.

"Even if I wanted to, what could we do? What would the point be?"

"Doing the right thing. You know there are ulterior motives at play in the Thern government. You can help fight that."

"Are you sure?" she asked, unsure.

"I am. I've seen the work these men do. You can make a difference, help us out."

"Then I will. When do I leave?"

"When you're ready. They'll take you. I'm not safe here anymore, though, so I've already left, he said, flickering."

Her eyes widened. He nodded. "That's right, I'm already in transit. Will you join me?"

She closed her eyes for a second before opening them and looking him in the eye. "I will."

"Good. God bless. And god speed," he said, before waving and disappearing into the now-visible image projector.

She looked to Agent 7. "Are we leaving?" she asked.

"When you're ready. Bring what you need."

She was ready thirty minutes later. They left that night.

And thus, it began.

Feedback is welcome. I did very little editing, and while I'm not entirely happy with the execution of the piece, I like the feel and the general ideas behind it- this is a world-building piece, in a way.

Space Australians- I like the piece, it reminds me of what I've done before in some ways, and while I'm not sure what universe it's from (It sounds like an existing one, but I'm not exactly sure.) Also, I can't really tell if the main character is supposed to be an immortal or not- that part of the passage is fairly vague.