The stage
Another hero - another mindless crime.
Behind the curtain, in the pantomime.
The lights go down and the stars come up,
the oranges fade into brilliant blue,
such a wonderful hue.
I wear my smile upon my face,
my own mask to hide disgrace.
My small world shall never be the same and once more I am to blame,
I am to blame.
The neon lights glimmer brighter than the stars hanging in the darkened skies above the cities skyline. The Brightened orbs of shimmering splendid lining the paved roads as the city awakens in the night, any and all who are drawn to the sweet seduction of its nightlife flocking to the glow, beckoned like moths to the flame.
I am many things.
A heroine, an antagonist, a run away, an orphan, and an abandoned child.
Out there I am all these things and more but inside here, my sacred temple, my sanctuary graciously nestled past the bright marquee and lined with ropes of ruby red velvet dancing along side the long rose colored carpet.
My home of make believe.
Outside I am nothing, but here... Here I am great and powerful.
~*~
The knock upon my door is followed by the all too familiar line 'Five minuets till curtain rises' Its almost time for me to wear my mask once more, to show the young and old a display of brilliant lights and feats of fancy, things that can never really be true beyond this sacred temple to make believe.
Real magic is just an old mares tale.
No, there is just a simple illusion of something grander than yourself, of being special.
Nopony is special, nopony is unique we are all just players on a chess board trapped in a rat race.
My shroud of stars lift from the table before me embraced by a soft blue glow, the white star making an audible snap as it fastens, easing it to center it beneath my chin. The all too familiar and obviously useless hat eased down upon my mane of snow white and ice blue. It serves just another purpose to me, it makes this facade complete, it makes me look magical but alas as I gaze upon my reflection it serves to only remind my of the very truth I try to conceal.
It truly makes me look and feel like a fool.
On and on does anypony know what we are living for?
The magic I perform on the stage only proves to entice my rage, silly tricks and acrobats much like pulling animals from a hat. The glitz, the lights, that horrid dismay all tricks from a box my family would say.
This just only proves them right with every performance, every trick. I am a disgrace to the family crest.
I never learned real magic like my sister, the adviser to Princess Celestia. Nor have I attained true valor like my brother, the captain of the royal night guard. I was simply the last born child showing no promise in either field.
I tried to perform real magic but the eyes of the audience were not the ones judging me...just the mother who named me so plain and the Father who saw me as one who only brought them shame.
As I walk to my stage and the crowd does call my name as if I were a goddess to them, each call praising a false glory, my facade so neatly stacked high around my like a wall. I still cannot help but feel those eyes upon me, those of a family that see no glory in my act.
At last the curtain call arrives and I take my final bow, a glorious mare in their eyes. They lavish gifts upon my stage of roses and dolls, The air around me still feels like a cage this love is just a camouflage for the bars around my stage.
Every time I try to go they call I must carry on with the show.
Inside my heart is breaking,
My make-up may be flaking,
But my smile, still, stays on
Another show done as the lights fade, another night I play pretend and get paid. The bits in my purse are overflowing as are the gifts in my dressing room but no matter how much I attain I am never satisfied.
Does anypony care how often I cry myself to sleep? My life like a hole where I've dug myself too deep.
I lay awake every night, thinking about the life I lead and how to make it right.
I know I'm better off now that I refuse to fight.
I spent so many days trying to make them see, that there is so much more to me than the little filly with a mane of snow. But I guess they never did really want to know, every letter that I send gets no reply in the end.
Some things never change, my family, my pain.
I still press the picture to my lips, the gentle smiles you wore when I earned my mark. Some nights I wonder what went wrong, was it something I did or was it something I said? These thoughts bounce around in my head as to why they looked upon me as if I was already dead.
I was not the same as darling sister, my magic was very different. I once thought they would love me if they knew but once they saw what I could do they looked away from me.
I made my own new best friend, he will always stay here till the very end.
They told me my magic was far from alright, that if I used it again they would leave me in the night.
And so I tried again, with a little help from my friend. I made all the flowers grow and changed the weather by myself, they should have been so proud but all I saw was the gasping of the crowd as they backed away from me in fear.
My family vanished from me that day and I have lived with my shame, just like them they are the same.
I will never use real magic again, it all goes south in the end.
Outside the dawn is breaking,
But inside in the dark I'm aching to be free!
I remove hat slowly as my eyes gaze into her mirror before me, wiping the tears away with my handy cape, the only real use in my opinion it has.
In the reflection behind me I see the all too familiar friend I made so very long ago. He sits there a stallion of white with hollowed eyes, the dark magic dripping like ooze from the holes to meet his depraved grin as it always had.
Like me he wears a mask, like me he forces himself to smile.
'Ready to go yet?'
I simply look at the stallion and creak a smile as my mask breaks, the tears flowing from my eyes once again.It was time to leave this place for good, to leave it all behind.
Somethings can change, the shackles finally broken as I exit the stage. Leaving my pain and leaving my rage.
"Yes."
The shadows embrace me as the world fades from sight as I am whisked away into the night.
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- Bristewings · 2.8k words · 28 1 · 1.2k views
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I like it!
SWEET!
Trixie is Twi's sister?
Interesting.
Watching Boast Busters right now, ironically.
Dramatic.
Pretty deep.
I love stories with Trixie. Although, I can never find that many... This is great, by the way. I like the poetry used in this.
Wow, Nicely done.
Just a few spelling errors that I noticed, beyond it is all good.
1106906
1107101 Wait, what? Youtube is broken for me. I'm in China.
1107123
"It's not ironic, it's just coincidental!" is the relevant audio clip.
1107142 There's no such thing as coincidence or irony. I can lecture you on fate if you want.
Or maybe there is... Who knows?
1107147
Well then you can't very well post "Watching Boast Busters right now, ironically" if there's no such thing as irony.
1107158 That comment was irony in itself. Problem?
Is that a Queen quote?
1107209
yes I used lyrics from the show must go on. It seemed appropriate for Trixie
this it? is this what the story is based on?
1107281 I knew that looked familiar.
1107209
yes it is:
1107320
I personally love the song even the moulin rouge version.
I like to write fics that are deep and poetic I truly hope I somehow touched this sacred area in writing
1107357
I listened to the song while reading. I half cried.
1107370
Yea Im kinda good at that. :3 I try my best to have fun with what I come up with. I know Ill never get featured or put on EQD but hey I don't perform my escapades in hope of gaining Accolades.
Another great read mare
1107147 life is a series of occurrences and the sentient have the luxury of deciding whether there is a reason to the chaos which leaves us behind.
To the author: Your lyrical reference to one of Queen's more emotional songs made a grown man squee.
<< this guy.
1107554
Why thank you for the complement. Its a deep song and Trixie is a character I feel that would have a sever self loathing complex due to the way she is so flashy, in my opinion it appeared to me like all she did cried out a very clear 'love me, please somepony love me.' I read way too much into characters inner mentalities. I do like to exploit your meaning of life often in my own stories.
There is no black or white, no good or bad for we live but in a world of grey and soft spoken lies.
1107710 something we call truth is only true while we're alive to believe it... yeah I could go on.
1107748
Me thinks I found me a kindrid spirit
Hmm. Not bad, not bad at all. I rather enjoyed it. Needs a bit of a cleaning up here or there, but not terrible. One thing I might suggest is to either pick prose or poetry and stick with it. This...combination/slight back and forth is a little distasteful to read. Still though, it shows a lot of potential if you wanted to take the pure poetry route--I'd love to see that. What you did already, considered on its own, was spectacular. *applauds*
So we see similar possibilities in the song, but the direction I'll take it is different enough, heh. So rather than my ire for putting up an idea I was rather proud of before me, you instead get respect for good vision and great taste. Bravo. Thumb up, but no fave. Good luck to you in your future endeavors!
1107766
Yea I wrote this in 20 mins tho XDD no pre reader no editor. I do like to release strictly poetic things tho
1107757 I try not to get too existential, but there are certain mutually-accepted meanings we must take for granted in order to function as people who can share and exchange ideas.
Now that we're kindred spirits, read my story. No existential stuff in it, although inner turmoil is commonplace.
1107790
Inner turmoil you say....-bro hoof-
1107799 (\
Hey your story is on the popular bar. Rarity would kiss you! (or butter you up to death to further her personal social agenda)
1107806
O.O really? its popular
1107554 It could be pre-determined fate, or it could be random luck. Either way, I'm grateful to have found ponies.
it came out fantastic mare
1317596
I am currently working on such a fic myself and am most likely going to make it another sad tale.. I have a flair for them.
I am a firm believer in the anti hero or villain is not born but is made.
A character like trixie has alot of potential and open back plot that has yet to be explored.
The story is underway and its working title is 'The color of magic'
very nice. I approve.
Nicely done. I love stories with Trixie as a complex character with a good heart who is struggling to be accepted rather than the villain or revenge kind of Trixie. She's not a bad pony, she just made a few bad decisions.