[POET MiNDER]

All this graphic setting is missing are automatic weapons,
Carbon fiber rifles that will implant our message;
Violence is both a stance and contention,
That we vigilantes feel demands concession.
It’s saddening that we resorted to THIS to grab attention
But, my Ukraine brothers are anguished, restless.
And so am I…
I joined the good fight after they kidnaped my stepson;
Doctors of the state came and said he needed to have medicine
So they dragged him to the asylum, where mad men stay.
His manic depression made him a good candidate
For a series of experimentations to alter his symbiotic state
But their true intention was a wicked anatomic aim
They wanted to make him into a catatonic slave,
A brain dead assassin chained to the whims of the magistrate
...Within their midst lies the real symptomatic case.

I liked this. The structure and flow were on point, and the story you set in place was a creative interpretation. Making the view more of a personal cause than a generic political rally. Seems to be going into more of a Sci-Fi route than I'd expect.

Since then,
I swore to myself to not let them torture my fellow men.
To uphold this virtue, I had to murder some fellow men,
Friends of the past who worked for foreign intelligence.
The newscasts referred to us as corporate terrorists
But, we were much more.
Businessmen like drug lords are just a symptom of corrupt law
Killing company executives wasn’t in our direct blueprint
We mostly did it to collect funds and get noticed through it.
Our main directive was the data in the computers of the abusive,
Major establishments who claim the luminous mind of Confucius.
Once we got the nuclear codes that will secure our future
We were ready to negotiate with these predator humans
With their secular hubris, ideological spawned molecular tumors;
Cancerous humans metastasizing the nebula’s cruelness.

That last bit was nasty. I'm not sure how I feel about the nuclear codes and making it a larger scale. I'd have been more into focusing on the smaller scale of things. Not that it was bad. Just what I'd think would be the better way to go.

Holding the world ransom, is this really what we wanted?
To spread oblivion in a socially unconscious planet
Somewhere down the line, we lost sight of our aim
And became part of the same design we disdained;
Extremists who are bent on revenge
Caught in the genocide net,
Lured in by the message of death.
Comrades, I remember when we first met
We were browsing the Darknet
In an anonymous chat room, spouting our jargon
While, our Tor browsers hid our cloud of darkness,
Along with those of the black market.
What’s left of the good in my heart blackens,
As we dispatch several nukes to our foreign targets;

Kind of the same way I felt with the above section. Still keeping a good rhythm with things though.

I’m sure my stepson wouldn’t want this
But, my conscious has turned into a stream of bloody content
That plays without a stop the screams of those we slaughtered.
The Nuclear fallout thereafter,
Made our group's name notorious, Hail the “Soulless Martyrs”!
The ushering of a new age is glorious. Euphoria can be morbid,
Depending on how you orbit your gaze—the aura of its portrait.

Cool end, but I feel it was cut off short? You went back quickly to the more interesting beginning and fast forwarded to "boom we blew up the world".

I didn't hate or love it, but I loved the idea behind it. A solid overall verse. I just feel like you scoped back too much and kind of rushed the second half.

----------------------

asylum

They stood at attention wearing ancient armor and wooden shields,
some nursing wounds, unsure if they’d ever have a chance to heal.
With blood soaking his hair, the wavering flame flickered and licked the bottle neck,
giving a fiery edge to his message in a bottle sent crashing at the feet of police.
scorching the bottoms of riot shields, leaving burning footprints in their retreat,
while the battered union backers attacked positions sporadically,
hurling rocks the size of fists forward hitting former friends, tragically.
Ivan cradled a man with a rubber bullet embedded inside of his brain,
grabbed his uzi off the pavement, resolving to end the pain.
Sprayed one shot at the clouds to test for a jam, got up and ran,

So this is going more where I'd expect. The general thinking that comes from this picture is a battle against the establishment. From a writing standpoint, I liked this so far more than Godcomplex's, but as a creative flex I liked it less. A lot of good wording and some great rhyme schemes. Just not very out of the box.

pellets pelted his jacket and cracked his welding mask’s glasses,
as he ran through burning petrol, choking on burning plastic,
turned towards his targets to furnish his further passage,
and squeezed the trigger at their feet in a line, dancing.
the surge of his friends past him sucked the air from his lungs,
as cordite in the air stung his organs, he choked,
the last words of an anthem he sung hung in their air as he slowed,
fell to the ground and passed off his gun before she spoke..
“Put down your weapons,” echoed through the loud speaker,
reverberating in the chest of a man who’s knees naturally grew weaker,
bullets slapped into his fractured leg, lost a new sneaker,

Still keeping a dope flow. The imagery is definitely there and strong. Happy you are going with a point of view from one member of the fight as opposed to a look over the whole event.

clutching a less than lethal weapon, he actually proved he’d earned.
Paid by wages of people fighting against politics turned volatile,
facts of no concern when facing a twenty thousand large obstacle,
taking little losses, filling plots with victims of power and greed,
those against the powers that be are never cowards that flee.
Live ammunition’s approved against the opposition,
fuel for future trees that’d grow, trophies from days of attrition,
once proud masses hid behind trashcans from massive waves of led,
they could have forgave them instead, but behaved like were bred.
A product of turmoil and power, their blood boiled and gave them the hour,
as a last gift against taxes that didn’t represent people who were heaven sent,
from benevolent claws into the jaws of the machine.
Few fought, but the scheme continues in every war,
waged against those who never intended to explore.
In times of the past where some slept, we always grow,
to keep unity, in unison towards the future history knows.

Now it's going towards the politician? I feel like you jumped a lot. I'm going to have to back and re-read to see if I missed something..

So you're explaining the target, who appears to be a political leader who was speaking to the public before a riot broke out? Okay. I liked it for the most part. I liked how you ended it.

Both came really well, and with different takes. I think Godcomplex had a much more interesting take at first, that teetered off for me. asylum had a solid drop as a whole, while being more predictable. He had the more fluid and interesting rhyme schemes. Props to both but I'd say as a writer asylum flexed a bit more.

MVGT Asylum