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Discussion in 'Suicidal Thoughts and Feelings' started by jordaniac89, Feb 5, 2010.

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  1. jordaniac89

    jordaniac89 Member

    Here's a poem by Edgar Allan Poe. Pretty much sums up my view of life

    "The Conqueror Worm"

    Lo! 'tis a gala night
    Within the lonesome latter years!
    An angel throng, bewinged, bedight
    In veils, and drowned in tears,
    Sit in a theatre, to see
    A play of hopes and fears,
    While the orchestra breathes fitfully
    The music of the spheres.

    Mimes, in the form of God on high,
    Mutter and mumble low,
    And hither and thither fly-
    Mere puppets they, who come and go
    At bidding of vast formless things
    That shift the scenery to and fro,
    Flapping from out their Condor wings
    Invisible Woe!

    That motley drama- oh, be sure
    It shall not be forgot!
    With its Phantom chased for evermore,
    By a crowd that seize it not,
    Through a circle that ever returneth in
    To the self-same spot,
    And much of Madness, and more of Sin,
    And Horror the soul of the plot.

    But see, amid the mimic rout
    A crawling shape intrude!
    A blood-red thing that writhes from out
    The scenic solitude!
    It writhes!- it writhes!- with mortal pangs
    The mimes become its food,
    And seraphs sob at vermin fangs
    In human gore imbued.

    Out- out are the lights- out all!
    And, over each quivering form,
    The curtain, a funeral pall,
    Comes down with the rush of a storm,
    While the angels, all pallid and wan,
    Uprising, unveiling, affirm
    That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"
    And its hero the Conqueror Worm.
  2. itmahanh

    itmahanh Senior Member & Antiquities Friend

    When I read any of Poe's work I cant help but think he was much like so many members here. Battling very deep demons and pain. But they always show in the words. Why not take a little time and post what "demons" are inside your head right now. Members here understand. So let us know how we can help.
  3. jordaniac89

    jordaniac89 Member

    Wow. Where do I start. Life is meaningless. People use religion and feelings and goals to try and validate their pointless lives. The difference between me and someone who smiles, is that I see life for what it is: a fetid, steaming pile of shit. I am completely alone. And I mean COMPLETELY. I go to class, and spend the 9 or 10 some odd hours in my apartment alone watching TV. I'm going to die. I'm going to rot in that room and no one will ever notice. Hell, my goddamn roommates don't even talk to me. All I do now is drink. I used to smoke a helluva lot of pot, but I eventually quit. I realize now that "The play is the tragedy, 'Man', and it's hero, the conqueror worm"
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