[Lindel]

Equipped alien weaponery aimed directly at the planes trajectory
Traverse this plane wit telepathy; levitate out a blackhole wit a sign that reads...
"R.I.P Malaysia Flight 370"
Degree in chemistry; mix hydrocloric brews; Agent Orange and Blue
Watching Neigh Palm weapons big enough to turn the whole Vietnam forest floor a fluorescent hue
Mordors hordes weapons in view, fire at will; Admire the skill
aim skyward and reel; drag ya leader back to the frontline and funeral pyre the kill
Ya Lord Sire forreal; from start to finish I create and flow well
I'm even a motherfucking psychopath at the check-in... welcome to Bates Motel.
Mix Vodka, Kahula and Baileys - that's a recipe for disaster
Getting Drunk in Washington protesting funerals with Westboro Baptists after
You forced this laughter watch you grab ya throat vomiting
Addicted to holy water promethazine ready to accept Morpheus peace offerings
A cult following, popularity is the reason they rally
Describing my crew? the Term 'In' is Welcome... more than Walking Dead's season finale
Group Therapy session, psychiatrists diagnosis is clear
and the beast inside is starting to tick... Captain Hooks Crocodile is near

The Glock 9 that I'm grippin could start a bonfire.. I'll hog tie ya division
A dogfighter w/ SWAT sniper precision; my strong right'd make God cry in submission
W/ shots primed to go online in an instant, put the pistol-grip to ya neck
Rippin into ya flesh; the grimmest picture of Death's sickle swingin in synergistic effect
Constructin your fate w/ multiple blades I culled from the Ancients
Approach your city carryin the skulls of the vanquished like the hull of a slave ship
Summon the strength of Goliath.. hit like a Congo viper hocking saliva
Somalian pirate in the wake of Poseidon, my optical fibers like an Oculus visor
A locust swarmin out the lotus blossom, the wrong one to go to war w/
Ronin swordsman in cloaking armor like a Trojan horse full of Roman Spartans
A polar storm shiftin the global orbit, reached the pinnacle of lethal cynosure
My genes're sinister.. DNA print reads as genius literature w/ Nietzsche's signature
Brain fires impulses from pilot's controls.. process data w/ dire results
My mind make a diamond corrode; to write what I know'd leave you white as a ghost
Or w/ Meyer syndrome.. I'm Einstein if he wired his skull to a nitrogen bulb
A dynamo clone in a scientist's coat, deciphering rows of binary code

I'll take a fictional setting and rake the thistle and webbing
Nabatean idioms reckoned I'd face a zillion legends
To skate the literal tempests - my ancient friends wouldn't mention
Inept friars, protect ya neck fibers when I'm raving to GZA with clenched fists
Let's make it simple as Reddit; if Para & Saber's gripping the weapon
you're off to a rocky start boxin' with the old guard like Mason Dixon's obsession
Just taste the venom, accept it - Pagan riddles erected
If Kano's kissing your empress, each page is visual leverage
RESPECT my team. We ain't your average Aretha Franklin nipple suppressors
We came to give you a lesson, a statement issued to enrich or triple investments
Overhaulin' with no balls - couldn't even scrape the Michelin's melon
I'm eight parts phalanx, nine percent gold digger
Five percent 5-Percenter, cypher set stone slinger
Prescribing final deaths to idle lines of vets, no zingers
cause V's an unsympathetic, isometric cybersect CoHpe stickler
Megatron rebuilt by Chevy, the system's not gonna fall
The cinderblocks in my palms had Liston droppin' his jaws
Enough subtle teasing. No longer preachin' to Priory's
A fuckin' beast when I'm writing these on eternal scrolls of summer evening ivory
Another creature entirely with another creature inside of me

Would You Be Mine?

It's a beautiful day-- the man zips up his sweater and slips on his shoes to this musical phrase;
There's a tune that'll play while he welcomes the neighbor he greets with a grin and his usual wave
Once two's time is due, and they've said their adieus, the man tells him, "My neighbor, stay tuned", and he'll stay..
..He'll stay stuck to the screen, past the very last scene-- for his neighbor could never dwell moving away..

♪ ♫ ♪

Will wasn't a grown-up. He spent his days brainlessly scarfing potato chips, stuck at the sofa
He'd watch "Rogers" re-runs-- a bunch of the old ones. His legs stretched, relaxed; his lips, chugging a cola
My son's in some coma, his mother thought, worried. The man only moved once, to thrust his remote up,
and point at the screen. Yet my boy's twenty-three! 'Cause she'd serve him banana nut muffins and doughnuts,

As William kicked back, numbed by shows on TV-- fueled in sloth from the lack of strict discipline acted
Unphased by the sun-lit sky's flicker to blackness; the shadows, the shapes, and the minutes that passed him
The morning turned midnight as quick as a flash did; still, Will had not known the transition had happened
'Til slowly, his arms dropped his chips and his bag, his 'lids closed, and his consciousness slid into absence..

At three, Will woke sweating and stricken with panic; the sound of fuzz shrieked from an image of static
He reckoned, That darned left antenna is spazzin', then crept toward the screen to start fixing the 'rabbit
by twisting its ears.. Though it didn't appear the set's picture had cleared, from within this contraption,
A whisper was heard, and Will grimaced and gasped as two arms flew from his television, and grabbed him

The TV screen beamed him inside to his pleas and his cries; bitter yelps, though no help arrived later
He fell on his face in some strange, dormant place, staring up at a man who said, "Welcome, my neighbor,"
Who smiled as his head turned demonically crooked, but held out a hand, which seemed worthy to trust
..and since Will shan't refuse Mister Rogers, he took it. Plus, 'twas all a dream, which'd be surely abrupt!

After being pulled up, William gestured him speak, so he said, "Will, my boy, it's a pleasure to meet you;
You'd grown oh-so-close to your set and your screen that my sweatery sleeves could outstretch and retrieve you."
They'd talk; stiffly walk 'cross the neighborhood block, as Will thought, He's alright; this here Fred is a neat dude,
Then asked when the man planned on setting him free, and Fred said, "Oh, my Will, I can never release you..

By clutching your sofa for several weeks, you've created our bond. Although yes, you can peak through
the screen at your living room's couch, nothing's getting you out-- so please, join me for breakfast, and tea too."
In vexed disbelief, William, pressing his teeth, started pinching throughout all his flesh as his screams grew
from petulant squeaks to malevolent shrieks, 'cause this "dream" was, in fact, truly present, which he knew.

He cried, "Mister, sir, if your lesson's how I-- should go stepping outside-- and watch less of your re-runs,
I vow that, if ever unleashed from-- this screen, I'll say 'Hey' to my neighbors, and cherish the sweet sun!
I'll greet Granny Greene as she knits on her porch.. and she sits with her york-slash-her-poodle, Miss Muffin!"
Fred chuckled a good, hearty giggle of sorts. "William, come have some warm apple strudels and crumpets--"

"Enough, you sick bastard!" Will darted away down the lane as Fred yukked, and Will'd run through his laughter,
more wild than the wails of the succubus after she's warped one's pure chaste through voluptuous matters
..................................and untruant pastors succumb to it faster than sugarcane jolts of columbian jaguars.
He searched every street, found no exit, then screeched out his lungs 'til his yaks were all bloody and raptured

But once he had mastered the chaos within him, Will took a deep breath, then glared at the glass window
Which floated in mid-air and swayed to his motions. His legs arched one side, his arms hitched in akimbo
His mind dwelled on breaking it open. He'd pick up a stone, bring his arm back, then give it a quick throw
The window's glass then broke-- a boulder to bits as the boy shook and gaped; the man's grinning crescendo'd

The man then made sick innuendos of triumph, like wheezed laughs and knee-slaps while gripping his shinbones,
plank-bent at his torso from ***kling too hard, with a hot-turned face, crimson-tint pigment in skin-tone
Will, writhing with anger, then hit it with six blows, but howled as his knuckles bled, clenching his fists thrown
He body-slam bashed it 'til every last rib broke, then charged with a head-butt.. and hemorrhaged his temp lobe

* * *

A spray of Will's consciousness streamed like graffiti and bloodied the block of the neighbor he'd known

First faded, his name, but the last he forgot was the plot and the place of his fave episode

He remembered it well; when Fred Rogers bought brunch at the diner and taught him good etiquette there

(Oh, where is that diner? Oh, where is that diner? Oh, where is that diner? I've never been there)

* * *

Fred frowned with a tsk at the kid on the concrete, who's forehead was marked by a dent and was trickling
Blood steadily poured as Fred crept to the corpse, slid the sweater he wore-- off, and picked it up gently
Fred sniffed it a bit, rubbed his head in the dampness, then reckoned, Will really was thin. This could fit me,
then headed back home, where the sweater would spin in his washing machine for a rinse and some cleansing..

There's streaks of maroon on the glass of the screen. William's mother tries wiping them off with her Kleenex
When all of a sudden, Will's program flicks on, and Will's mom thinks, Oh William.. my god, it's your v-neck!
She's awed-- but not 'cause the man's dragging a body, but 'cause of what hangs in the back of his closet
She murmurs: "The size, and the brand, and the cotton-- it's almost just like what Will's grandmother got him."

* * *

It's a beautiful day-- the man zips up a sweater and slips on his shoes to this musical phrase;
There's a tune that was played while he welcomed the neighbor he greeted with grins and his usual wave
Since two's time is due, and they've said their adieus, the man tells us, "My neighbor stays tuned", and he'll stay..
..He'll stay stuck to the screen, past the very last scene-- for his neighbor could never dwell m̛͞҉͈͈͎̜̝̜͍ò͙̦̹̯̺ͅv̨̹̼̹̗̝͞i̶̫̮̝͚͉̩̟̼̘n͏̷̮̤͕̖̺̯͘ ͡ͅ ̖͇̜̥̤͕g̸̤̤̻̙̫̪̯̤̯̜̱͚̕͟ ҉̡̙̮̼̺͎̦͖́͝͡a͘҉̨̰͚͇͙̣̱̻͍̖̯͞w̙̯̠̹̦̥̣͎̻͖̱͓̩̕͞͝a ̴̞̟͓͘ ͔͉̘ͅy̷̕͠͞҉̙̱̙͖̹̥̱̼.̷̵͘͏҉̥͙̫͈̘.̢̜̦͉̝̯̝͕͖̘̭͚̹̻

♪̵̬̝̦̮̲͠͞͝ ͘͞҉̪̤͙̦̥͚̖͙͍͔̻͕̣͍̥̯̗͟♫̟̙̲͉̞̜̙͉͙͚̻̺͎͙̣̜̤́̕̕̕̕ ̧͘͏̹̗̹̖͎̻̟͎̩͜͝ͅ♪̧҉́҉͎̩̦͔̦͇̤̥̗̱͙̳ͅ





This could be the calamity of offers with no amnesty or coffers..
The black oiled paint drips with half faded blood stained vanity of a law firm..
So sits the Subject subjected to all this amongst a Majesty of Faulters..
And the savagery don't falter or fall apart to call it off as cavities halter..
The air breeds as a foundry of monotony clouding foul scenes of the menage; it reeks..
As decomposing hours streak a sour ease of power where this sole soulless council seats..
Brown beaten Mahogany greets with sounds of trickery from Hells founder in speech..
While Party A sits thumbing pages to contemplate an agree while dumbfounded of greed..
Impatient, the infectious host pushes to have this unholy of Nexuses eloped..
And trecherous hopes find growth as the neck relishes the most threatening groans..
The Subject nervous, shifts and notes a black rose undergoing Necrosing tones..
Like exorcist omens, deathly tomes. Wore in the face of this Lender like a necklace or cologne..
Now the Borrower wonders "why did this opportunity knock.? Is it possibly crock.?"
Maybe its drunk dreaming leaving the mind stumped, believing the possible foolery mocks..
Then reality chimes like novelty clocks as the pen becomes alive and nonchalanty jots..
"This is your sins being repaid." The pen then barbs the hand to be the Proprietarys prop..
The Demonic voice yells "You either going to sign or die in this Hell.!"..
And while the thoughts cliched, the Subject feels conveyed to say "This is quite expensive to sell"..
"Even you would find the legalities a strain on mentalities. And I must say its doing it well"..
A pause before an answer which strikes like a cancer. "Your here because the way the cards fell"..
"Hardly dealt a bad hand, but damn, certainly a horror to how this little sin dwelled"..
Minds racing now, spacing out. Staring at etchings in a Throne, picturing sketches of a home..
A place where this mellow Federalistic drone watched a seven year exiled Exodus grow..
Ignoring Heavenly ohms from deafening throws that pointed out every evidence known..
The Subject was too happy in forgetting the blows that bruised one's pettiless moans..
And so sits that pain in a pane of glass painfully painting the price of the past..
Sealing strife in the strikes that struck so stainfully now severly syphoning like sand..
But there's no flipping the hourglass, for once that last hours past- the signing is had..
It'll be iron clasps binding the hands and Subjects blood left smeared on the ivory pad..
But now shifts the sand and the reminding is mindfully mad that right now the time is at half..
"I think I need some water." A simple tatic stall. "Fine, but this is only getting harder"..
Its really nerve slaughtering taking all this in and finding the roots to what is bartered..
No fine print but exact note to risk "emotional or physical pain" will marry at this legal alter..
"I need to make a call." Said Subject suddenly in grin. "To ensure the validity of this offer"..
Stepped out the room where nostalgic, estrogen loomed. Abberation left to fester the womb..
Talked of Heaven and moves to leverage the doom and find a solid exiting ruse..
All while the pestilence swoomed and shrouded around the taunting text to construe..
It was an effort to woo the mind and heart of this, whom displayed a jestering muse..
Back to the chair. "Do we have a deal.?" The question came with burning confidence..
"I've certainly learned alot from it." Response said like a slap of working dominance..
And the dance done like a Prom of kids. When appeared a shadow of the Omninent..
The thunderous voices clashed. "This is my dwelling and I'm in control.!"
"Yes, but this Subject's of my children and I have a right to console.!"
"Well you have no legal options and I think you'll find the Sin in the life played a roll"
"You foul creature, I've sat on High watching this unfold, the contract nulled when you Stole this Soul.!"

At that Satan fell defeated. And I remembered as I ascended with the Lord, his promise..

Tarsis faced their day o' reckoning-- granted they'd hoisted chests from a dragon's lair;
I thus waged a plague o' pain and pestilence; purple, poison breath brought forth poisoned air
That day, decay and festering swept the streets décor'd in voiceless death and voided stares;
No noise, except their brains and skeletons being sizzled away by my toxic coil's ensnare
Though they'd regretted it, I, raided treasureless, was left only this cave to rest within
Unawakened ever since.. 'til now, as the traitor begs for help in shameless desperateness
Each leg is trembling, as he kneels at me, and squeals, "Sini", for Tarsis faces precipice
Simply for the sake of great benevolence, I shall aid his nation of knaves and selfish-wit;
Imbue their blades with venom vile, nasty and virulent; so ghastly, no vaccine can serum it
Even a basilisk basked in it would croak badly-- though sadly, don't ask me if tears emit-
For we slay our foes gladly. Our march inward's nigh; As the Fire Dragon paints ember skies,
'O Frost brings Winter's rise, Shadow's shade flickers by, and Death's hapless victims die,
My breath shall wither rye.. my claws shall render blight.. and my wings shall then arise;
Flap once, the winds'll writhe-- flap twice, and they'll whip up a toxin vortex, twister-size
We set forth toward Tarsis' entrance, as claws rip through squadrons of guards and defenses
The field's filled with carcass, and souls stricken nauseous from noxiously toxic incisions
Launched from faraway targeting distance (the marksman precision of Artemis gripping a bow,)
My saliva's spit, sticks to prey, and nips away at their armament's armor equipment alone..
It seeps through their chestplates, then strips and corrodes them skinless as bones dissolve
While they're quivering and whimpering, I listen to the sharp hissing and moans, enthralled
Their bridgade-- they do retreat.. but in the air, a virus ingested to paralyze is effective
They can no longer move their feet, or breathe; it seems they've a flare of sinus congestion.
All they can do is shriek, as my tail curls around them in pairs to tighten them breathless
'Til they're introduced to teeth, and I feast-- pleased once my share of knights is digested
I belch out a new disease, before I bash my skull like a battering-ram through castle walls,
Smashing all that's in my view to see, from the raiders, to the obelisks of its fragile halls
Then return outside to find dead human beings, suffocated in the new disease's putrid breeze
(Troops o' the king had an immunity, but you should've seen when I caught the flu and sneezed)
Deer, racoons and sheep who had breathed it turned to mutant-breed, flesh-consuming beasts;
The rate they grew increased to new extremes of huge, exceeding the cubic feet of 22 atleast,
From toxic sewage stream fluid-drinks, and chewing meat from corpses of a platoon's deceased
So in a game of go-fetch, I throw flesh into the keep; where the throne rests its pseudo-queen..
My pets have yet returned, but rest assured. I'm less concerned, as bloodshed is heard inside;
Squirms and cries, as men are torn to shreds and burned alive in the sulphuric fumes released,
When I bellowed in a mighty roar, "To every blight below the surface side of Earth.. arise!",
And the tulip-tree roots secreted their impurities, purging whoever inhaled its gruesome stink
If you believe the stomach acid of another hundred dragons, even with sulphurous break-downs
Could match Sini's sudden gastric effects, digesting food before he can feel full for his prey now?..
Watch a man be devoured, as poison enzymes then fry him before he can make noises inside;
Before the screams of his voice can arrive, and the bulge in my belly can be point at ten times
This is not an agony explained; you cannot grasp his ceaseless pain, or laughs as he's filleted
An attempt to replicate the pleasure, or fathoming's insane; how foul, bubbling acids eat away,
Like the blight which smites this site of battle seen today, turning the grass' green to gray,
A predator capturing its prey.. engulfing, swallowing it whole, as it, with rapid ease, decays
They say that poison brings only corruption; that its fruit stems where every Sin begins...
That its trail leaves behind smoldering destruction, and marks where every society ends...
..But where they see a path of devastation, I see a purge of injustice, to make amends...
Where they see the Earth cast to desecration, I see the waters which flood it, to cleanse