02-03-2013, 05:14 PM | #1 |
Senior Citizen
Join Date: Aug 1997
Posts: 3,871
Battle Record: 4-3
Rep Power: 0 |
Note
Name: Note
Crews: Where: Repped: Nietzsche The fractions of manufactured man, glorified SWAT leaders Taboos parties of the blonde-lamb-blue, with tattooed swastikas In bamboos, God's eaters, the vicious claws sent for a blissful cause The fists full applaud, words turn to pistols and bombs The wishful crawl, with hands folded, a man molded... For a plan told by the bitter grand nobleman to recreate the land of roman A span opened, a Caesar directing, wore the crown to the village That impounded in prison when he was denouncing religion A proud position on the mount arousing, the flocks were espousing The clocks were counting, the smart were blind when talk was gouging The knocks were pounding, camps full of tormented voices Relentless poises, the air vented and scented of poison Evil sent noises to the bold, and turned ice cold to what was moistened Souls aching, knowing they're facing the hole waiting As a grave from merciless dictating, courtesy of Satan Depict painting, family slaying, sanity raping, a perfect body was created Born from its nauseating stomach was Nazi hating Rotten icons brought in Mercedes, victims shook, when their pants were burned Others stood when there stance was firm, in a sociopath, trance with words Most crowded, some shouted, most to their knees, few fought to their feet Robbed to be free, the ones who pouted were the ones left lost in debris Took our creeds, our rage was masked, questions remain unasked Can we escape the gas? And if we do can we face our past? Then the day at last, no more of wars attacks, though they tore our backs Once these horror facts were proven, men were hung for remorseless acts The hurt was burning inside, emotions were un-stable, riding the furious tides Nursed for the turning of times....the end will re-occur in 1939... Armageddon Man invents wheel... The hunted, the ploy by black suits and ties Corruption, the void of eyes fulfilled with lies Photos, disposing pieces, the choking fetus A loathing Jesus, manufactured, Global heating Clones and leaches, mod chips, mass inflation Man-made diseases, and profit vaccination Faceless with greed and a Dehydrating economy Nations on knees with hands folded blindly waiting Masses lost in religion, rotten politicians Trapped and caught in the sickness, are you a product or victim? Famine, Ebola, bricked by demands that uphold the kings God’s hand pulls the strings, lambs controlled by pigs A lonely boy that is doomed, toying with news Exploiting the youth, everyone avoiding the truth Evolution, industrial pollution, and mutants Sewers, existential humans, and distribution Cocktails, the plate is larger, as we gag and decay The rape, the harbor, salute as the flag is raised Broken homes, behind the curtains, rise in hurting Hopeless moans, violated, and the drive of the circuit Molested with a faceless core, in a tasteless mourn My modeled earth, in its shapeless form… Timmy and his 4 Leaf Clover The dimensions in his placenta, depth in dementia, in tormention immense in the end when bells dawn at heaven he's breaking sand castles by vast huddles, from mass puddles stands puzzled, tangled in his web of brass buckles heaved hands, in a bondage of freedom, span being belittled this man juggles an abandoning will, while standing tilted till’ he falls in his own inferno, Blocked from the outside world little do we know, these walls are internal he molded the ocean, his soul sails with a tug boat floating in erosion, locust devour the lonesome moments writing in his diary, unknown spot to dock, and plummet now the only bottomless pit was his stomach trapped in a winter of solstice, the splinters are bolted he shivers alone with, these stones and worm holes with crypts surrounded in fog and grey hazes, a fall from greatness races in these mazes, that he stays placed in the day he left the island shapeless, his mind was a blank space now, his paint brush is faceless, flakes dust a fragrance of great taste no escape route, stopped closing his eyes when he paints clouds so he frames clowns, with tears dripping down, his face now society motored, right where he’s cornered, in the night of no where his pride was aborted, fright was his comfort, his guiding light was distorted now seek past the river, under the bridge beyond the litter, into parentage, where it all begins does it all make sense? A noble birth without a fault in the end flew into hell, with hands folded to pray, a golden egg who never out grew his shell, until he did, and sold it away his throne was a waste, but, we’ll never forget Timmy’s tale, the day when he fell through his wishing well... ThePeople'sTemple Seed of a clansman, turned to the dream of a mad man Started as Marx incarnation, confession turned to a house to fathom The rapid turning cheeks and luring speeches Troubled were helped, but, soon visited by returning demons Insecurities blanketed, purity wakened in chores without sin The addicted poor and sick, were lifted as lords in hymns All are welcome, but, once the gates are closed and locked Your hate is toned in plots, without will, your minds in knots Broken down societies forming alliances, grow loud A self built shelter in a jungle known now, as Jonestown The realm shell became hell bound. Now punishment The courage to leave ended in being hunted dead The reverend Jim, descended in whims, being paranoid Curiosity left a void, set to destroy, left to decoy Deeper inside the creeper of night, being alive As the reaper of light, the revolutionary death seemed to be right The heat of the plight, as the attention formed, residents warned... ....To keep a peaceful image of the peoples village, sworn... ....In fear, inspectors came and left in the plane that was stormed Masked men came forth to assassin 4 innocent has-beens in war The last of them torn, the passion was born, now forces doomed The farewells ready, as the barrels empty, the corpses grew The count astounds, news televises, despised by riots And science quiets, and shock deprives it silence The cancer wrath was a battered path, in the aftermath... An uprising was disguised in families dying hand by hand The high being in shades to sway would leave a frame ... ....Of mind, and picture for the survivors to be reminded every day Welcome to Niagra Falls in Buffalo... broken bottles, wasted creeps, the widows and babies choking, throttled, forsaken streets filled with bingo ladies disintegrating with a crackled face, lost in life with shadowed days and haunted nights when seasons past and years turn, we lust to cry trying to put pieces back, but, tears burn, before they touch the eye the dust that flys, and lets little to grow abandoned bikes in the middle of the road with little to hold, listen to the laughing across the bridge distant Falls splashing, lost in the mist silent mourning, the meekest life, hoping to take dreaded mornings, with sleeplees nights, loathing to wake trees swing, leaves fall, covered windows with boards the weakened, with every squall, another echo is born The Moon's Shadow My kettle’s steaming, the plight of a Jekyll evening Beware, because tonight, the Devils breathing A gentle screening, but now and proud, the mask is released For the sadistic hunt, as my victim runs, I attack for the feast Stab at the meat, she runs trying to hide in the corner She screams for her life in horror, I simply strive off the torture I axed her leg, as my wrath is plagued I make love to her, while she suffocates in a plastic bag Her demise approaches, I look inside her organs Now the water on her eyes - distorted, she realizes her fortune I press against her chest, caress her breast, she’s the angel of death Her fatal like breath erects when I start to strangle her neck As I lift the blade, I see her drift away, but her pulse returned Despite her body in disarray, ripped with stakes, she convulsed and squirmed She re-grouped and pleaded, she prayed, and begged So, I made her puke and eat it, then mutilated her head Watched the blood splash to the floor, as my joy re-kindled But, her heart pumps no more, and my void continues My umbrage love is, left dust and bones, as they float to sea I rush to home, as the family man, I’m suppose to be....... |
|
|