Week 9: 19. Soulstice (0-1) vs. 20. Split Eight (0-2) \\ Split Eight wins via no-show

Split · 04-23-2014, 12:59 PM

blink.

wary... of motion. a climb.
or instead... a closeness,
divine. your senses implode
on the silence and

rest is the road.
unwinding.
untread.
undying,
undead:
heart murmuring 'Delilah, I give!' but
its words were twilight eclipsed by anathema GLOW-

skylights ***ophony. the Abraxas- once broached
bore on your corneas a
morbid, and blasphemous dull....

aurora borealis. in the back of your skull.

...from axons, from cones, and then rods
the young ashes were sculpt- young components of god,
a synaesthetic clashing of culled...oceans of raw-
ribs, tendons, sinews- all impulses impended by sloth,
your riveted bulges collected in pause-

"...get it together..."

finding the yoke. and an axis to prod
you twist a bit backwards and laugh at the thought:
that you, pinned to the mattress,
escaped the despicably savage claim on your cortex
by the grips of Death's gravitational forceps...
and for a microsecond you hang.

the Sun is beneath you,
and it leaves you- hostile, but hidden,
your shade collecting a contrail Olympus,
with winged boots, you kick off-
into what?
the Earth still sings in blue at your furthest vicinity,
aluminum angel, birthed in periphery,
burning so perfectly as afterburners maliciously
propel a shimmering fuselage,
shivering, brooding off,
the perfect symphony in which you are
piloting downwards in a elliptically grinning superarc
on the face that had raced against death,
seeking a weightless descent.

you're stymied. perplexed. pertubed.
you provoked the clash of
diodes, cathodes, and LEDs
as Sol's vitals wrapped you in red.
muttering, between the sky and yourself
what you were trying to tell- you'd been safe all along.

the gravitas situated far beneath,
spun far between warmongers
sparse of teeth
flossing molars your forefathers dreamed
the Gods had smoldered in cosmic borders between
night/// and ///day, so callow and cunning,
so that we would always know tomorrow is coming.

"You pulled like.. 15G's back there"

04-23-2014, 12:59 PM	#4
Split . Join Date: Aug 2013 Posts: 8,898 Battle Record: 27-22 Rep Power: 85899399	collecting conscious blink. wary... of motion. a climb. or instead... a closeness, divine. your senses implode on the silence and rest is the road. unwinding. untread. undying, undead: heart murmuring 'Delilah, I give!' but its words were twilight eclipsed by anathema GLOW- skylights **ophony. the Abraxas- once broached bore on your corneas a morbid, and blasphemous dull.... aurora borealis. in the back of your skull. ...from axons, from cones, and then rods the young ashes were sculpt- young components of god, a synaesthetic clashing of culled...oceans of raw- ribs, tendons, sinews- all impulses impended by sloth, your riveted bulges collected in pause- "...get it together..."* finding the yoke. and an axis to prod you twist a bit backwards and laugh at the thought: that you, pinned to the mattress, escaped the despicably savage claim on your cortex by the grips of Death's gravitational forceps... and for a microsecond you hang. the Sun is beneath you, and it leaves you- hostile, but hidden, your shade collecting a contrail Olympus, with winged boots, you kick off- into what? the Earth still sings in blue at your furthest vicinity, aluminum angel, birthed in periphery, burning so perfectly as afterburners maliciously propel a shimmering fuselage, shivering, brooding off, the perfect symphony in which you are piloting downwards in a elliptically grinning superarc on the face that had raced against death, seeking a weightless descent. you're stymied. perplexed. pertubed. you provoked the clash of diodes, cathodes, and LEDs as Sol's vitals wrapped you in red. muttering, between the sky and yourself what you were trying to tell- you'd been safe all along. the gravitas situated far beneath, spun far between warmongers sparse of teeth flossing molars your forefathers dreamed the Gods had smoldered in cosmic borders between night/// and ///day, so callow and cunning, so that we would always know tomorrow is coming. "You pulled like.. 15G's back there" __________________ http://split8.yolasite.com Last edited by Split; 04-23-2014 at 01:05 PM.