05-08-2015, 03:04 AM | #1 |
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Organ failure
Viewed at large for not my benevolence, but the omen traits
I took on as I peered into my soulmate's face Those eyes I fell in love with, showed me a lonely place Away from the Ouroboros, the Magnus opus of the snake That circulates and gives this world its shape, Away from the Ouroboros, are the hallways of pandemonium's estate Each one leading to a small room with a claustrophobic space With a soulless mage awaiting to show you the serpent's tail And at the moment, You learn to tell when not to look into a person's hell, their nervous spells, Earthly tales are excuses to assert ourselves as heroes to those averse to help. I'm a dreamer wanting to fly on nimbus in an open space To hell with order & power, the crux of what Napoleon craved I live for propriety, a master Confucian with ceremonial slaves Upholding perfect colloquial grace when escorting social guests Even through the parochial phase expected from colonial men Barbarians who came to haggle and spread their microbial plague Yet, even in my sincerity heaven has closed its gates All knowing, it heard of our infamous opium raves Where the pugnacious lost all control with shame Drew their swords, pointing & thrusting them into the holy saints. But, I heard from a centaur there’s an alternate code we may enter If only I remembered… I try, and I try, but everything been dismembered My memory center has too many pathology splinters. Psychology symbols. My apologies simpleton, we sinners carry whole cursed anthologies in us Our biology encrypted with knowledge afflictions In addition, to countless chronic addictions, narcotic nutrition Unkind psychotic condition driving my every moronic decision So as to, maintain the euphoric visions of the godlike children Who serve as my companions in this Utopian kingdom Where I get to play rock, paper, or scissors with other dope fiend victims Completely at peace, until we’re all bombarded by Soviet missiles That’s when I wake up from a near overdose in sniffles That’s what happens when opium crystals have ammonium mixed in. Chemical snowflakes containing the primordial ether Along with Ragnarok, the behemoth force that leaves mortals screaming Those long gone can still be heard in distorted whispers Softly speaking the source of meaning, we're moral creatures Endowed with the task of carrying their spirits In our hearts and minds, a paranoid sickness Giving me trances deeper than séances of fortune readers Charlatans, who take the ace of spades as their immortal scripture, Treating occultism as the medium that stores their secrets; Sins created from their own lives, their story's linear sequence It's heartbreaking when the filius philosophorum seeks for evil Dousing his genome, until his spiking the most blissful fever Once the soul really weakened, organ failure doesn't feel so lethal. |
05-15-2015, 01:33 PM | #2 |
The Clown Prince
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This was a pretty interesting piece altogether.
I like the concept of the idea as it carries out the flow of the piece is smooth and the transitioning is dope I often wonder how long it takes you to construct a verse you seem to have a great grasp on your vocab usage you also set everything up well for the following line which most people have an issue with the verses sound right but the lines are out of order but you handled yourself pretty well on here..nice work breh
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