THE OPEN MIC CYPHER

UnbornBuddha · 10-09-2015, 02:07 AM

A megalomaniac composing classical symphonies,
Evocative incantations resembling magical litanies.
Hearers of the word fall into an unimaginable syncope
A deep sleep,
That takes them into the supernatural’s vicinity.
I have always excelled in language and history
What can I say; it’s a syntactical gift for me.
Yet, I can’t make it in the actual industry
Mostly because I don’t fit their blasphemous imagery;
Doesn’t anyone anymore practice with chivalry
When confronted by puritanical tyranny
Whose sole existence challenges the myriad things.
I ask for exculpation in order to sanction my similes
Because I realize words are akin to manipulating subatomic mysteries.
I can see the intangible world, chaos, and its unconscious symmetry;
No description I can conjure will be able to acknowledge the scenery.
Yet, even after this experience I still feel constantly fidgety
There’s something missing still, an ominous wish of vanishing blissfully.
But, if I willfully do so, I’ll regret it forever and damage my dignity.
Ironically, nobility’s toxicity happens when maddened with divinity
The cruelest disease I have is the one attacking my virility,
In a sense my passion, my validity.
A poisoning on the genetic level that assaults my energetic vessel,
Leaving me in a state easily influenced by psychogenic devils.
When I try to let go of them by expressing their venom
To a mental specialist, I get branded with schizophrenic paranoia
What analysts and psychiatrists deem as sentience destroyer.
While, I agree that these voices are endlessly annoying
I don’t think they’ve destroyed my humanity, that’s simply avoidance
Of the real issue, which is them pointing fingers at something
Due to their own incompetence to figure out the problem!
So they choose to belittle the monster that may be benevolent.
No wonder the misunderstood have to embrace the devilish
It’s the only way to stay safe when being institutionalized
In a way, once you’re really crazy every delusion dies
At the point, you’re too mad to realize the use of your mind.
I know we can’t always choose our design
But, if we can learn something from Lucifer’s fight
Is that even God can’t nail us to the cross.
Sure, he then went to hell, but at least he wasn’t lost.
He stood up for what he believed in.
We’re quick to judge him because we can’t imagine his feelings.
Humans like to pass their opinions as it was worth millions
Truth is most opinions are the same worthless contentions.
They only appear different because of subservient suppression.
Now, as for me, I’m not asking to hand me your sympathy
Just because of my underlying anguish and misery.
I’m fine with being utterly in desperation.
It in this state, I’ve stuttered into revelation,
Which really means nothing in an oracles destination.
Heart desiccation can’t be remedied by surgical reparation
The inner realm’s fire needs to be rekindled.
Perhaps, I’ll try those acupuncture needles.

10-09-2015, 02:07 AM	#1
UnbornBuddha Senior Member Join Date: Jul 2014 Posts: 1,008 Battle Record: 23-10 Champed - Art of Writing League - AOWL Season 5 Rep Power: 23856379	A megalomaniac composing classical symphonies, Evocative incantations resembling magical litanies. Hearers of the word fall into an unimaginable syncope A deep sleep, That takes them into the supernatural’s vicinity. I have always excelled in language and history What can I say; it’s a syntactical gift for me. Yet, I can’t make it in the actual industry Mostly because I don’t fit their blasphemous imagery; Doesn’t anyone anymore practice with chivalry When confronted by puritanical tyranny Whose sole existence challenges the myriad things. I ask for exculpation in order to sanction my similes Because I realize words are akin to manipulating subatomic mysteries. I can see the intangible world, chaos, and its unconscious symmetry; No description I can conjure will be able to acknowledge the scenery. Yet, even after this experience I still feel constantly fidgety There’s something missing still, an ominous wish of vanishing blissfully. But, if I willfully do so, I’ll regret it forever and damage my dignity. Ironically, nobility’s toxicity happens when maddened with divinity The cruelest disease I have is the one attacking my virility, In a sense my passion, my validity. A poisoning on the genetic level that assaults my energetic vessel, Leaving me in a state easily influenced by psychogenic devils. When I try to let go of them by expressing their venom To a mental specialist, I get branded with schizophrenic paranoia What analysts and psychiatrists deem as sentience destroyer. While, I agree that these voices are endlessly annoying I don’t think they’ve destroyed my humanity, that’s simply avoidance Of the real issue, which is them pointing fingers at something Due to their own incompetence to figure out the problem! So they choose to belittle the monster that may be benevolent. No wonder the misunderstood have to embrace the devilish It’s the only way to stay safe when being institutionalized In a way, once you’re really crazy every delusion dies At the point, you’re too mad to realize the use of your mind. I know we can’t always choose our design But, if we can learn something from Lucifer’s fight Is that even God can’t nail us to the cross. Sure, he then went to hell, but at least he wasn’t lost. He stood up for what he believed in. We’re quick to judge him because we can’t imagine his feelings. Humans like to pass their opinions as it was worth millions Truth is most opinions are the same worthless contentions. They only appear different because of subservient suppression. Now, as for me, I’m not asking to hand me your sympathy Just because of my underlying anguish and misery. I’m fine with being utterly in desperation. It in this state, I’ve stuttered into revelation, Which really means nothing in an oracles destination. Heart desiccation can’t be remedied by surgical reparation The inner realm’s fire needs to be rekindled. Perhaps, I’ll try those acupuncture needles.