Week 16: Adonis (7-8) vs. patrown (2-4) \\ patrown wins via no-show

[Certain]

Season 3

The Basics | Read the full rules here.

Verses are due Friday at 11:59 p.m. PT. THERE ARE NO EXTENSIONS.

Votes are due Monday at 11:59 p.m. PT.

Verses may not exceed 48 lines or 650 words unless agreed upon by the opponent.

Voting on three battles is required. If you win and don't vote, you will receive a loss instead. If you lose and don't vote, you will receive a one-week suspension. Please post links to your three votes in this thread.


Topic





Good luck, @Adonis and @patrown.

[Adonis]

We've danced before in the final regular season match up. You knocked me out. I shall try to return the favor.

[patrown]

aye.

[patrown]

Annie's family stood in the waiting room holding hands, saying a prayer,
before her parents talked to the doctor, fully aware,
of decisions she'd made, plug to be pulled, hearts full of love,
she'd been in a coma, heart to be given to a donor, a gift from above,
hands separated.. mom and dad walked to the waiting doc,
who they followed through a maze of hallways, hearts heavy with delaying shock,
"you have until midnight, then it's time." both eyes shifted to the waiting clock,
they sat next to her and prayed to God, "take our daughter into your loving embrace,"
both gazed at her face until the time came, watched the plug fall to the floor,
they hugged and cried as their child died and spores spread from her eyes.

the steady murmur of her heartbeat stopped and her face locked in a seizure,
sweating as if with fever, she flatlined and froze for a moment,
both hands reaching upwards, opened, reaching for life that was stolen,
wrenching at electrodes and ivs, she finds peace,
ripping pieces of flesh out with needles, she groaned and leapt,
eyes frozen on her father under her as he froze and wept,
in one motion she swept his neck from under his chin,
and drank from blood gurgling, his dying smile urging her on from within,
soon they both grinned.

forming a family team of distorted beings, flowing like streams,
through hallways of dying and sick, growing loud with the screams of affliction,
prying souls cried for their mothers and died from sins of his crucifixion,
outside of God's jurisdiction they crept in the darkness,
flaying angels on the harps they once played to gospel tunes,
they brought doom from lost tombs to exhausted rooms, killing hope.
feasting on comatose elderly with valuable life still enclosed,
their wills exposed all the notes of a Chopin sonata,
played on sinews of flesh, instilling smells of lingering death,
from the sins of an egg, they blame witches that act first,
but always, man's dispatched worse..
The latch burst from the loading dock to an open world,
and hungry demons exploded upon the Earth like it's depths unfurled,
into claws of rigid fingers, splitting flesh like playdough,
making its image in every living being it could take hold,
they could only flee into forests, soon to be strung up in morbid scenes,
guts feasted on by distorted beings yearning to control the essence,
of humanity, our own vanity, progressions calamity earned for breakfast,
another notch on the rifle of mother earth, discovering our worth,
harnessing the berserk and nurturing it under her breath,
while some still wonder about death...