Does anyone have links or saved verses of old longbar battles that were considered dope?

[Dope girl]

My bad I didn't know He whose name shall not be spoken account

[Sinacog]

The crimson-gold entrance of a restaraunt captured my attention; passing by the scent, this blast of vibrant senses
Inhaling the incense of fresh, steamy rice served with fish-fillet, I visioned trays; alas, the finest dishes!
But not a dollar by my pockets- thus, I plopped beside the curb as my mouth watered; I was starvin'
Shorn of penny in hand- then came a brilliant plan, to taste those succulent specials of Robert's China Garden..

..Or whatever the name of this asian eatery! So I came in sneakily- that is, until a waitress seated me
Saying, "Be at ease! You don't have to pay immediately," amazing me with how I'd reached a buffet this easily
Before she gave a drink to me, with great indecency- I left my table to grab a plate to take in secrecy
Trays of great cuisines in reach- the sizzling oysters, steaming beef and crab legs had changed my day infeasibly!

I picked out elegant arrangements of won-tons, coconut shrimps, and even found a seasoned flounder platter
Torn decisions of foreign dishes; will it be the orange chicken- or pork and ribs with sweet-and-sour batter?
In the midst of a mental conflict, my eyes flickered toward the sushi section for a second and suddenly, I froze-
Were my eyes decieved? No- I could see, it was wrapped in rice indeed: a god-damn California roll.

* * *

That little taste of deliciousness in roasted seaweed; the sight was like a girl in remote Tahiti with no bikini
The fact that it lay still untouched, freshly-wrapped amidst the countertops without notice was so demeaning
I darted toward it, people shouting, "Slow the fuck down!" but now- my lungs found the aroma of kung pao stir fry
So I spun around to follow it saying, "I'll save the roll for last," as I'd come across this calamari seafood delight!

While gathering octopus- I was dazzled by Foo Young galore; piling my plate, leaving room for no more
My eyes glued to the potstickers coated in soy sauce mixtures and Chow Mein, as if I'd never seen a noodle before
Caught up in embellished dela***ies; a faint forgetfulness descended upon the entree I'd in store for last
The roll, alas! I leaped forward, dashing across the floorboard toward the sushi- until I felt a shoulder tap

A man said, "I'm sorry, but you've made too much of a ruckus," snatching the plate from where my fingers gripped
I lunged at my luncheon- but fell on my stomach as he pulled back, and knocked me out the door with a single kick
There I was once again, on the curb with my mouth watering; forever banned from this place 'till I turned old
But I promised myself; one day, I would sneak in again and get my hands on that god-damn California roll.

-

[Sinacog]

I remember the innocent sparkle that glimmered so subtle under the Northern Lights; your sapphiren eyes
Oblivious to the cold, we'd play, scurrying through the snow, each day; embracing Boreas' frozen paradise
Life-long companions, venturing amidst the blisterin' blizzards, held together strong by empathy's zealous ties
We'd oathed never to leave eachother's side; lives even death couldn't seperate, as energy never dies

I remember we thought we were ageless and undying; protected by the bond of immortal vows
It was until one night, when a song of sadness and lament drifted amongst the air carried by mournful howls
We'd followed its broken-hearted tune through mountainous expanse, as suddenly the sound of silence sung;
That striking stillness I'll never forget, when a dog's figure loomed over his companion's, who's time had come

I remember its head in the fur of its fallen brethren, as it let go a weathered belief, that never he'd leave
We came to it and shared its sorrow; accompanied its misery, and as the moonlight shone, together we'd grieved
We let little shimmering tear drops embrace the mountainside's earth; let our woes brandish into stone
Imagining how the two brothers used to run and play like us; just a couple wolves dancing in the snow

-

I remember luxuriant stories we'd tell; how Elysian Fields' golden gates awaited us beyond the Northern Star
'O Sparkling beacon, we chased to the Arctic region's farthest reaches, determined to find utopia no matter how far
Our feet were driven forward with scuttled pursuit; painted in our mind like a portrait, this wonderful view
Envisioning lands of warmth; greens that contrasted to the sheets of white, which flourished in colorful hues

I remember we aged and our souls became weary; still, we searched this land far from home, long departed
But we grew old, and we grew tired; so my journey with you to utopia had come to an end, but not forgotten
I could see you dieing, and we both knew a trickling flicker of life would soon put your sapphiren eyes to rest
You promised me we would meet again, whether it life or death, then you died with your final breath

So I put my head in your fur, my fallen brethren; howling as the moonlight shone, giving you a tenderly kiss
Whispering in your ear, one last oath; that I would meet you in utopia, where your energy lives
Little shimmering teardrops embraced the frosted earth, as I let my woes brandish into stone
and I remembered how we used to run and play, each day.. just a couple wolves dancing in the snow

[Sinacog]

“When empty space is all that's left, let the void be filled.”


well, the best it can manage.

so,

yo,


.
;
.


…… It's Gawd, Allah, the next'a kin - a past-unanimous branding, all been scarred upon His melanin .. oh yes, the martian's got a membership,
would-be the martyr prophet legends sing, yet when I start to chalk the message in? Christ'll rob it for glory & claim he marked the blotted penmanship -
then he'll die again denying that his karma got the best of him ………
that's why:
These carbon copy residents can gargle cocks 4 president, I'm still the sargeant known for carving marble rocks with metal fists,
an artist not to meddle with. yall can spawn the outer layer, go & bargain shop for eloquence .. but the quest itself's retarded, ain't no mall to cop intelligence!
it's hard to mock this fella's gift, a militant soul of wisdom .. the visions was so persistant, that i stitched up six infinities bridging the solar systems;
a sickening flow precision, kid that visited rogues in prisons, blood-etched sketches exhchanged, as pictographs depicted a global mission..
a glistening throne existed once, I'd sit with a robed magician .. Next to hell, flames blackening, yet living a cold existance ……
A pit in the snow, imprisoned in the brilliance of hope arisen, held triple 9 mm.'s to the prisms of holy christians,
..diggin a hole to piss in, the pilgrim, track forests & paths lost, backfired the mechanical nazareth with nada more than hacksaw,
a Lord with a glass jaw..but when swordsman attacks fall, the highest titans of my time would absorb it & back off!
in morgues with a black shawl, suited up, boxing with tyson's folks; eye contact lapses witnesses to shock in a frightening jolt -
had my irises lined with twice as many watts as a lightning bolt!
copped every model of microscope, now those astrologists like the flow .. live life abiding by a manuscript the Gods of the Mayans wrote,
so Novices might just choke, used my mind's eye to fry an ommelete with whitened toast, then run up to grapple the last apostle n‘ slice his throat!
the drops is described as "GOAT", Blacketh overlooks planets uncharted .. instantly branded the hardest, once I left the last tyrannosaurus cast in a tarpit,
ravish the harvest, let inhabants starve then drag around half of the carcusses back to the lab, extracted fragments stashed in the carpet ……
follow paths in the darkness, breeze by ya legion of fake cats .. walk a week straight, 8th day breaks, i'm asleep in a haystack;
breathin a gray black, smoke's catchin up, i need to evade that ..
given father saturn such a reason to hate, that clouds now follow where i travel & they freeze when I make camp!
most keying up lame raps, kids be rockin the spits frail .. so ya whore read sex stories, while my cock in the bitch tale -
jump to pond from a ship's sail, dove in goddesses, mahogany pigtails; and used poseidons tridant allthewhile for choppin up fishscale!
the prophet that kings hail, shine brighter than fair days. knives to write, python fang aligned, decipher the airwaves,
stride inside of a bear cave, had the hide of his hair shaved..hang the bloody skins, dry 'em out with just a lighter & hairspray!
flyin' higher than airplanes, sword bends low, the endo & weed smoke captures me .. then i rapidly mastered fu jukendo in zero gravity,
got murder counts, scenes indecent, nuff to resemble an emo's fantasy.
in benzos with C-notes strapped to me, still don't let no amigos hassle me..so much beef, its off the wall, like echoes in meatloaf factories,
……We PbP, plus the some extra leftover EO family……
Men of metal that gleam so placidly, flash & see 'em burn n' melt to ashes .. it's the return of Hellsing, faggots.
us 5, patrol the site without no verbal help from admins, so we ‘run this shit’ .. while yall ‘cant even start a light jog’ like ‘nocturnal health fanatics’……
infernos shelfed schematics, galactics shoved to the cornerstone; once again I summon the sword of poem, crowned a prince of the writtens 'til i swung it up toward the throne,
cut jugular cords with chrome, leave nothin but gore n bone, when He collapsed , i adapted as the covenant's lord alone …
The son of a force unkown, was re-birthed in enchanted light .. so observe as the tactics strike,
reversin the axis, might just turn the tide straight down to quench my thirst in the afterlife,
verbals'll crack the mic, among crowds, standin out just like a bergundy patch on white..
grab conservatives, stab em twice, unearths my version of catholic's christ ..He whom prays in burning churches with the virgin hermaphrodite!
still lurk in a castle, white, where urban kids have to fight .. they'll crack ya jaws on the pavement, call it curbin ya appetite;
the servant of ashen knights, all perched with a jagged knife. the day i bowed down to they power was the permanent sacrifice ……
i was searchin for answers, hikin' through it all, Godless .. met men in uniform on unicorns who drooled & talked nonsense,
Disproving all concepts, eyed a shine, drew close, then I moved & saw bronzes .. gold, silver radiation, flanked a unabomb cartridge..
dig the human thought process: black acid, n substance, gas-lined to dynomite, ignites traumatic combustion;
like volcanic eruptions, the cracks & concussions can self-compress to gravel at a hat's drop, then vanish to nothin,
must be magic or somethin, but when blacketh is bustin .. it turns present tense sentences to passive discussions,
so from spanish to russian, my mechanics demonstrate immaculate functions, trail markers left as relics beckoning each path to destruction..
a bastid, corrupted, flick spikes & samoan darts, kick up shit til you idiots get hyper than joan of arc,
twin vipers n' polar sharks swim right to ya vocals, sharp - replace ya eyes with a pair of trick dice & a joker's card!
this writin, the dopest art; all scrawled in grenade pencils, white hot flames to the page, then I started to blaze mentals,
charcoal to trace stencils, the author & aged rebel .. translate words to advanced lit in the earliest sanskrit from the walls of the Jade Temple,
armor of gray metal, heartbeatin with the speed of pure aqua, body temperature turning up the heat of your sauna,
.. or premature lava, understand, i'm STILL speakin for allah, from the slums of my hometown to the streets of nirvana!
so please, if you wanna - step to get thrown in fifty coffins, each a seperate limb, hymns, yo i'm known to rip these often,
the flow is sickly, watch this: they all stand to it, then i blow n kid's knees soften; shit'll buckle up quicker than a motorist precaution,
from the low abyss, it's awesome how a glimpse of the essence can terrorize these bitches in seconds,
use primitive weapons, words and mind, then they mimiced the presence .. now viewing most writtens been like clicking on a crystal reflection,
each myth is a lesson, all concluding and the ending point that Disc is legend.
that next level invaded, guess i've risen from heaven, swoop like vultures every now and then to take my pick of the peasants,
then i'm strippin the flesh n‘ find nothing within .. resort to explosive, last hand grenade stuck in the pin;
then they bludgeon the wings, fall to ground helpless, aint no love to begin, guess i made it full-circle, passion been runnin too thin.
pour up rum n' the gin, commit a couple'a sins .. then on my death day, make ready for the coming of Grim,
cuz when somethin existed, it can suddenly dim .. that's why all your praise on my writing is now dust in the wind.
it wasn't to win .. not to be the best in this cypher shit, it's just another stepping stone that drove my quest for enlightenment,
so I guess that it's time to quit, the message is dried n' ripped.. claimed the throne on my own, now to let the messiah sit,
left the measurments twice as thick, no use tryna stretch time, or to wet it & light the wick .. it's best to just flicker out, leave methods to die, then split ……
there's still venomous lines to spit, so this next generation had better ignite the script .. cuz yo,

it's a lot harder than it looks to get ya veteran licenses.


mark 'em.

[Sinacog]

[CENTER]Ballad Of The Northern Lights

* * *

[Frank]

@Sinacog

Blasphemy

[Dominate]

How is this the same guy?!?!?! lmaoooo

[Master Rock]

Get me the archives from netcees.co archive section.

[Adverse]

Sinacog a good writer, I’ve covered it. He’s just really committed to the troll I guess

[Dominate]

That’s the most benign explanation. I hope it is that rather than like… head trauma or drug induced neurological damage or something…

[Sinacog]

The bass rattles my face, DJ quickens the pace, I order another shot of whiskey to marinade my brain.
Dizzying bright pallets illuminate the place, a dancer dances down the aisle, I remove my shades.
"Want some company, babe?" most would be smitten, "Sorry, I'm here on business, seeking out a witness."
her eye slightly twitches, she uncomfortably itches. "maybe another time, then..." as she quickly ditches.
The bartender takes my glass, pours me another, "this one's on the house, for those who've suffered."
I glance at him a second, contemplate what words to muster, "there's some actresses who frequent this place,
who've recently been found face down in the gutter. Anything you know could help bring their killer to justice,
some of them were mothers..." -- I wanted to trust him. He assists another customer, I observe as he judges,
"they all worked for the same agency, that's all I know, cousin." I thank him and leave a tip, twice what my drinks were worth,
this lead may be a dead end or the spark that makes this guy burn. This killer targets young, beautiful girls,
actresses who sought the world, only to be fed to worms. I wanna watch HIM squirm as my bullet splits his spine,
doesn't matter if he dies or if I just leave him paralyzed. I want him crucified, can't get the idea out my mind,
I'm running out of time while he plans his next strike. I stop by the precinct to debrief about my witness,
when another detective smirks and casually plays, "hey, Jay! Couldn't help but notice you could use an upgrade!"
To which I respond, "well, if it ain't broke, why fix it?" He walks away, as if any of that mattered,
"Lieutenant! I might've gotten a break on this bastard! An agency employed our victims, that's the pattern!"
"Then what're you doing here? Quit the jibber jabber! Pitter, patter!"

"Hello, I'm Detective Soule', I'd like to discuss some murders," "Well, should we call our lawyer before this goes any further?"
"That won't be necessary, just tell me if these girls worked here," the secretary ganders at the photos, shadowed by fear...
She calls somebody to meet me, maybe I'll get some answers, an older gentlemen in a suit exits the elevator in a suave manner.
"Detective, I believe you've got some questions, maybe I can help, if you'd follow me to my office, I've some files on my shelf.
You see, I managed these women and your culprit I am not, they earned me billions so I'd be foolish to write them off.
There was a man though who's mother we denied, a beautiful dove who was sadly much too shy.
Apparently, she killed herself, and he blamed us out of grief, threatened to kill everybody who ever works for me."
I thought about it for a second, then before I could decide, an officer down was called on my radio, "I repeat, triple nine."
The address was close to me, right across the street, I pulled out my pistol and ran over, still discreet,
I spotted something beneath the stairs, a heart-shaped box with strands of hair, the girl next door pointed, scared.
the devil's advocate is up there, the terror in her eyes, the misery in the air basically luring me to the monster's lair.
I begin a walk to remember, finding the officer holding her liver, "he's got a knife..." she barely whimpers,
as she continues to shiver, I reach the top floor, holding the trigger, no... holding a lot more.
I turn into a room, aiming straight ahead, he stands in front of a window, no angst or regret,
"Well, Detective, I hear you've been searching for me so here I am..." that look on his face I won't forget.
"Some might say I'm your own personal boogeyman, the way you've been obsessed...
could've saved your marriage but you were more concerned with my little mess.
Yes, I killed those women, I set them all free from having to be human,
now they'll never be ruined by sexual harassment or rejection's conclusion.
They'll never feel the agony of not being good enough, of not feeling loved,
of having to raise a son alone in the cold, no husband to give a FUCK!"
"Is that what happened to you? Is that what this is about?
Daddy issues, self abuse and you get unhinged to let it out?
You're pathetic! No wonder your mother wanted to die!
it wasn't the rejection, it was the failure she brought to life!"
"I didn't even get to say goodbye!" a tear spilled from his eye.
"Well, soon you'll see her again when six screaming eagles say goodnight!"
I go to pull the trigger when suddenly my nerves subside...

[System error...admin required to override...]

"Well, isn't this interesting... the replicant falls asleep...
tell me 'detective'... do androids dream of electric sheep?"

[Sinacog]

3:15am.

I wake up to a loud roar, something between a lion and the riots of war,
into the sea while I gaze from the beach, making eye contact with the storm.
Watching lightning strike like a sword, something calls me out to the core,
I paddle out on a boat, ready to roam the depths till this mystery takes form.
Waves crashing as I move forward, the clouds darken the closer I get to the source,
dedicated to staying on course, even if I have to swim, abandoned by warmth.
The roar becomes clearer now, more like a voice welcoming me from the clouds,
or maybe it's under the surface, I'm not certain, I'm too focused on the sound.
I should probably have some doubts but I'm convinced there's answers to be found,
though maybe if I drowned, whatever it is would simply swallow my corpse anyhow.
"Closer, Johnny... you're almost there," part of me is scared, the other's proud,
"I choose you to help me out." The voice, poised firmly on my conscious ground.

That's when it draws into my sight, a glow underneath the ocean's might,
maybe it's a sunken ship or a submarine, or a deity waiting to devour my mind.
I hope it doesn't bite, whatever it is, questions start flooding but I've no time,
a shadow emerges from the light, the size of a skyscraper, hidden in the night.
I stare into it's eyes, orange with red like blood spiraling around the drain,
there's a tense sense against my brain, forcing me to give control without trade.
Am I going insane? Or have I been a puppet since evading the womb on my birth-day?
I can feel the tentacles wrapping around my frame, but I don't feel any pain,
and suddenly, everything has changed, and I'm swimming through the rain...
oh, sorry, that was a wave -- I'm a fish, or a squid, I can't quite tell either way.
What I DO know, is I survive in the water, freed or enslaved by the monster,
it's all a matter of perspective, but I've accepted the friendship of a blue lobster.

I have dreams whenever I sleep about the night I escaped my human shell,
vague glimpses of images, like of a man standing in front of Cthulu's spell.
Maybe it was me but I can't seem to remember the personal connection,
I'm just thankful to him for saving me from my schizophrenic depression.

https://yt3.ggpht.com/a/AGF-l78XdCKc...fffff-no-rj-mo

[Sinacog]

Born under the rising sun, my father was a great warrior who protected the land,
until the black mass of darkness gave birth to a demon who burnt the core of Japan.
Aku was pure evil, creating monsters and tearing through villages like a tidal wave,
until my father took the magic sword and removed the oni with it's vital blade.
For decades, the world was calm and safe from fear of monstrosities or tribal plagues,
but when I was a boy, there was a voice from the shadows that called for the final days.
That's when Aku was reborn, and his army bathed the Earth with blood and tears,
life as we knew it was forced to hide as the light dwindled in floods of spears.
Mankind was given the option, slavery or death, as the sword was stolen,
my father worked in the mines where every breath was short and hopeless.
I travelled and studied weaponry from every continent on the planet,
from spears to scimitars to the bow and knives, I learned how to survive and manage,
I became an assassin, a monk, a ninja and a samurai, and spent two years stranded,
learned how to hunt and farm, while also practicing how to deal critical damage.
I roamed far, in boat and car, becoming the perfect opposition for Aku's forces,
and in doing so, my mind was corrupted with thoughts even he'd find morbid.
I tore his minions apart limb by limb all over the world, but NOT to save lives...
but because in my mind, the hatred I bared was becoming the essence I made light.
I wanted to break spines. To take knifes and aim them at the heart under strange eyes,
to shave time off fate's line for every demon Aku claimed from people's gravesites.
I wanted to smell blood, to smash bone, to hear screams and feel monsters die,
to watch as they coughed and whined until they lost the fight and could no longer cry.
My father begged me to change, said he felt the same way once but it wasn't right,
killing Aku wouldn't save mankind because there'll always be darkness for him to find.
It's hidden in the base of our chest, where love and sorrow intertwine,
and it's stretched by the stress of anger that craters and hollows in the night.
I wouldn't listen, driven by my mission to seek vengeance through,
smitten by the image of children drifting in an endless crimson pool.
I apologize, but I refuse to lose while the root of evil still consumes,
until I force the magic sword into the forehead of Aku.
.
.
.
.
I pluck the blade from the face of a mountain, based in the fountain of youth,
chained by the veins of a titan, a giant who once grounded the truth.
With this power, I head to the wasteland Aku calls home to deliver hope,
when I pierce his throat and carve him up like he's a wicker post.
Leaving a trail of disembodied demons as his legions attempt to stop me,
and any who survive will stare at sleepless skies as my presence is haunting.
I enter the volcano where he rests, ready to fight, I begin taunting,
as he rises from the depths, I slice his flesh with a strike that's daunting.
Surprised. He's realized the katana I wield holds his only weakness,
and changes his form to parry my attacks, but my technique is seamless.
Frustrated, he changes into a hydra, but I continue to leave the villain speechless,
my ability far outweighs his evil as he drops to his back in pieces.
As I grip the handle and prepare my killing blow, he spews a few beams of light,
and I'm transported into the future where Aku has turned the Earth into his plight.
I swear to fulfill my oath as a Samurai, from this day until my last...
I'll hunt Aku down till I collapse, or my name isn't Jack!

[Sinacog]

3055 A.E. (After Extinction)

"Entering the atmosphere, Captain!" Jones announces from the deck, nervous sweat dripping down his neck,
we've been space bound fifteen years, finally discovering a potential candidate to inhabit, I hope the ground is wet.
I miss the sound of rain, so fingers crossed for some residue that doesn't melt my suit, that would be pretty cool,
maybe a lake or ocean too, something that doesn't engulf the ship or produce creatures that'll try to eat my crew.


"Any news from The Revenue?"
"No, radio's cold, it seems we're alone."

"Don't worry, I'll get y'all home soon."

There's four of us. Two marines, a scientist and a medic. Mankind's where we left it, on a dying planet with no moon,
but honestly, my only guess is we step out onto the surface and the currents suck us into endlessness like a vacuum.
The doctor predicts otherwise, apparently, several drones have landed safely and photographed crisp skies,
our ship's built like a shield, no windows to look out, so we won't know until we open the door and risk life.



"Landing in five... four... three..."
"Here we go, drumroll please!"

"God, let us breathe..."

We land safely, thankfully, no noticeable pressure and I don't hear storms like on Mars,
so maybe we can add this planet to the charts and start to reproduce beyond the stars.
We suit up and prepare to open the hatch, "here's to oxygen instead of poisonous gas!"
I hit the button and all of a sudden, it's like I'm staring at a history hologram of grass.
There's flowers and butterflies, mountains hiding behind cotton clouds and whistling winds,
I begin to hear my men whispering when I get a hint of relief within my shivering skin.
It's everything we'd hoped for, crystal lakes and snow formed along the horizon,
we've been searching for a new beginning ever since Earth and a comet collided.
I always believed in our dreams and now it seems that belief was worth the time spent,
since day one, I knew there was something beyond the sun and that I'd find it.
"Let's explore a little bit, maybe we'll find something!" I smile and lead the expedition,
I listen as they share predictions, pondering the possibility of alternative dimensions.
Prepared for predatorily intentions, wondering what damage our weapons would inflict it,
what if we discover a beast and we can't kill it or can't even repent it? A suicide sentence.
"Hey, doc, that pack you have covers all conditions? Flesh wounds and toxic inflictions?"
"Yeah, we'll be fine as long as I'm alive!" He jests, but my chest suddenly feels compressed,
we arrive at a cave behind a waterfall, part of me screams to turn back to the point of stress.
Reaper tightens his vest, "I'll take nose incase this goes south into a monster's mouth..."
I ignore my doubts and let the others go first so I can cover the tail of our awkward route.
A chilly drought climbs up my spine, our flashlights barely reveal what waits ahead,
my weary awareness now a heavy dread, and my fears quickly replaced with red.
Claws like swords morph Jones into shredded meat, he's devoured before we can shriek,
it happens so fast we can hardly see what's ripping us apart in the brief glimpses unsheathed.
I can't read it's movements, Reaper unloads clips into dark tombs when I hear it scream,
something touches my feet, I aim my rifle and it's the doctor's head staring up at me.
"REAPER! THE EXIT! LET'S GO!" I begin running, dodging and weaving through tunnels,
my lungs imploding and expanding, every breath becoming more and more of a struggle.
The air is growing more demanding, the shadows causing delusions, adding to the trouble,
Reaper runs into me as we crash into a corner, the creature pulls him from the tussle.
I dive through the waterfall alone, my weapon ready as tears block my vision,
wishing I would've listened to my initial opinion, now my team is dead from my wrong decision.
I turn around to find my ship has been torn to pieces, and I lay here in the rain, cold...
the last hope for humanity, surrounded by demons, with no way home.

[Sinacog]

TICK
TOCK

TICK

TOCK

DING!
DING!

DING!

DING!


It's midnight at the Miller's home, they sit around the living room praying that the sinner's gone,
Father Jacobs is upstairs throwing holy water on their only daughter as she screams in a bitter tone.
You can hear the cracking within her bones as the demon clenches onto the strings that grip her soul,
"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, PRIEST, OR I'LL EAT HER LIVER WHOLE!" echoes between a grin and groans.
Chanting scriptures in Latin, Father Jacobs ignores the threats with a cross against her head,
his thoughts filled with dread, of lost kids he met, his confidence shaking with every dishonest breath.
The demon senses the stress and takes the advantage, "HOW MUCH FAITH DO YOU HAVE LEFT?!"
Father Jacobs continues his chants, sweat in his hands drenching the words he struggles to bless.
"YOUR HEART IS A MESS, FATHER! I CAN SMELL YOUR DOUBT LIKE A PILE OF SHIT!"
Father Jacobs presses forward toward the end, fighting to ignore the monster's vile intent.
With every sentence he mends, he can feel the child move a mile into the wild abyss,
and that smile torments him... but failure isn't an option this time while her vitals emit.
"MY FAVORITE PART IS JUST AROUND THE BEND...WHEN THE SPIRIT OF THE INNOCENT SUBMITS!
UNLESS OF COURSE...YOU'D SWITCH YOURS FOR HERS...WHAT A TASTY JUDGEMENT!"
Tempted by the idea of trading his soul for hers if it meant she walked away, John hesitates,
but before he could drop the trade, the demon reaches out and makes the child's jaw separate.
Blood beading from her eyes as her spine deviates out of place and her body levitates,
the Priest stands in horror, his teeth chipping as he comes to grip with this jarring escapade.
Her hands begin to burn from the inside out, blisters boiling as puss runs from her mouth,
urine streams to the sheets, just like clouds, releasing screams and shrieks among other sounds.
Downstairs, her mother drowns in wine and pills to hide the thrill she gets from her daughter's pain,
as the father prays with much stronger faith than the Priest attempting to conquer hate.
A family trapped in calamity wrapped in Greed and Envy... filthy... stained...
making it easy for demons to reason with misguided youth in an empty cage.
Someone required pity, shame, attention or love or a fulfilling change,
when a boy came along and sang a song that helped her write a chilling page.
Until someday, that boy turned into a beast with horns and teeth like a shark,
and evil seeped through the dark like a liquid that'd reach to her heart.
Now, she's losing the battle as that demon travels through her scars,
and her veins unravel as it straddles her like a supernova coursing to Mars.
The Priest cowers into a corner, watching as her skin tears apart,
when her father crashes through the door and places a daring card.
"Take me instead! Let my daughter go and I'll be your shield!"
The demon repeats the deal, contemplating if the feat is real,
"I just ask that her wounds are healed, then I'll sign and seal!"
The demon releases a laugh as her body falls back to the mattress,
unaware of what happened, she stares as her father smashes
his head through the walls before grabbing a crucifix.
He stabs it through his wrist, up his arm as the red and blue is mixed.
Drinking all the holy water, using what humanity he has left to spew a script.

"IN NOMINE... PATRIS... ET FILII... ET SPIRITUS... SANCTI!"
but in a last bloom of violence, the demon snaps his neck, and the room goes silent...

[Sinacog]

..

[Sinacog]

'Fury of the frosted dragon was once told as a myth; but now behold the unfold of my grip
I’m one who’s intended to run through the weapons, protecting the peasants and nobles that live
These militant, primitive soldiers in mist; will suffer the limitless cold that I whim
I flicker my wings to be seen like a solar eclipse; releasing a breeze that leaves em’; frozen and stiff
Sweeping through the air in a moment of whit; I swing my tail to have these statues broken to bits
Yet my ears pick up frantic motion in wind; an iniquitous whisper devoted to sin!
Archer reinforcements come like rummaging thieves; shooting their arrows from under my feet
Summoned in summits with numbers in hundreds they try to puncture my lungs for defeat!
With my tongue in my cheek and stomach in depths; I inhale a breath; ejecting a colliding blow-
Retracting all arrows as fast as a sparrow to targeted archer’s hearts as sharp icicles!
Twenty are left rendered as dead; the rest look into my eyes and realize the might that I harness
Frightened with fear they run trying to clear; so I launch them an ice ball the size of a comet!save
Their bodies are crushed into particle dust; I scour the ground for more scoundrels in action
When suddenly from the sinuous seas: I spot silhouettes all shrouded as massive
It’s an abundance of ships with thousands of cannons; all fully equipped and mounted for blasting
People are screaming and the king starts to flee as powerful shots pound through a mansion!
Simultaneously all ships begin firing rapidly; destroying houses and palaces with lightning tenacity
I have to think fast in times of a tragedy; to save the peasants, nobles, and life of our majesty!
Fueled with a heart of pure fire and rage; I hover up high enough to overlook the entire terrain
Relentless In posture I eject the biggest breath ever conjured; shielding the city with an icy blockade!
The cannon balls falter against my defense; the sailors have an expression of one’s meeting the omen
Just in case this elitist fleet means to retreat; I release a breeze which freezes the ocean!
Their death is imminent; I fly where the ships are in stall; the air becomes glistened and riddled with fog
Gulls’ drop to be settled on this dawn of the devil as I lock on the vessels with an ice missile barrage!
Hits rip through facades’ till their ships are in shards; on the sea’s frosty surface scatter blown apart limbs
Surviving startled men try to call for amends; so I swallow them to launch em’ out as frozen carcasses!
The final vile man is slain with my embers; I return to the sire’s land; embracing its members
Civilians cheer from the grace that I render; as the king elegantly appears; raising his scepter
Today is to be remembered not as menacing treason; but a day we’re we up kept our brethren in legion
I fly up to bestow' the slaughter on the frozen waters; from atop of the ice wall; defending the kingdom
Behold the ‘fury of the frosted dragon; one whose sworn to protect the righteous in hardship
Channeling light to bring brightness to darkness; forever hailed as a true; Titan of Tarsis

[Sinacog]

When I was twenty one, it was a very good year
It was a very good year for city girls who lived up the stair
With all that perfumed hair and it came undone
When I was twenty one

They said he had a frequency like some white noise that carried itself along
Buried in wealth, money couldn't buy happiness, he lived vicariously with song
Every stanza was a minúte movement, he likely wasn't good at expression
The highest notes captured him, the lowest notes understood his depression
On the brim of regression, his passive aggression attaches a lesson explained
As a passionate quest to answer the message, a rite of passage is a testament gained
No home - no family - simply, a vagabond with a softer soul and a subtle caution
From rubble, stones and bones broke, but nothing more important than the one he lost when...
...that mourning began - a collapsed lung from collapsed ceilings, shrill screams
The new soundtrack to his hardened shell, the muse of music now nothing, but still scenes
And so he thought of her, thinking from time to time that this riddle connects
Tears stream down the face of a man whose eyes dwindled down to a ripple effect
In giving respects, he mutters sweet nothings through a whispering breath
Just praying that the clock could wind back, without revisiting his vision of death
That mind like a prism, never confined as a prison - shine light in the darkness
Pint-sized as an artist making parchment the last resort for the might he could harness
But he was life-like; juxtaposed with a mannequin's stare and hipster clothes
Mixing those feelings of emotion with others of tension while he wished for growth
Disgusted, he trusted none, but befriended many on the path to a distant cove
Where oceans crush salt in his wounds underlining the face that his grimace wove
Through the grimmest known tragedies, he lifted gold and shifted goals casually
Never taking a minute to choose, no minute to lose, the only limit he knows naturally
...is the sky, once that fell, his heart sank deep when the reaper was coming
Cause the weakness of man is falling short of glory through the demons we summon
But the reason we run is the same reason we hide our secrets in dungeons
The people mean nothing, they feast with their eyes and eat for consumption
And he was not of this world, no foreign language - still lost in translation
He believed in right, morality never seems to die alone in a spot of stagnation
So then who is he? He is you and me, he is a human-being...he's an illusion, see
Portrayed as a loser, not opposite winners, but a person with no sense of truth to be
What was once his youth could be now stated as a useless plea for hoping at all
Considering the changes, pictures vividly painted everything he wrote on the wall
A word buried in ink - followed by a shot fired blindly with no beginning or end
His demons are awakened, he could die trying to face them or live and pretend
With nothing to fight for or against, his closest friends were his rivals at best
The shadows shrouded him for year and sleepless nights have put survival to rest
If it's vital, he was dying, but up until this point I had you sit through it, tense
Cause it's like the metaphor of feeling ripped apart has taken on it's literal sense
And if you've never felt the anger and pain, it's nothing like accepting abuse...
...he went through this alone and his memories escaped him as he bled to his shoes

Now the days grow short, I'm in the autumn of my years
And I think of my life as vintage wine from fine old kegs
From the brim to the dregs and it poured sweet and clear
It was a very good year

Memory Lane. It's the road most traveled. Also, the most feared.

[Sinacog]

There's a river where my mother was murdered and left for dead -
where the fish nibbled her body 'til the blood wasn't as red...
brown stains on the rocks, too exhausted to run again...
I was just hiding inside a log that was up and around the bend.

men surrounded her carcass...one yelled to the other, "FIND HIM!"
I could see it was me they wanted; dogs barked as he jogged behind 'em.
heart pulsing, stomach was climbin'...pleasant day - but I was tired...
emotionally distraught; my mama's gone and I was cryin'...
we were just mindin' our own, walkin' the rocks we always did
papa had gone to hunt... me and mom took the day to fish..

Thunder crash...no muzzle flash, I must've been lookin' away from them,
I couldn't see where it came from, mom stepped until her face was in -
directly touching the riverbed...nose inside of the pebbles,
red swirls inside my reflection when I tried to bend to her level
I was growling with pain and misery, more thunder; the rocks went skittering
I wanted to fight for her, but flight was all that was gripping me..
running was breaking free, and I found that hollowed out stump...
I jumped inside, I was just hiding...and I could smell the aroma of skunk
men were rifling through the trees, their rifles cradled in a hug,
I heard an angry one say the words, "They go for $8,000 a cub..."

Mama laid there bleeding, my heart screaming, papa is gone...
remembering the hole I saw in her head, how the look of her steps was wrong
I'd never forget the fall on a summer day... it felt nightmarishly long
the skunk ran in the open and everything went slow motion - anxiety for the dogs.
because they tracked me to that rodent...but then they made it spray...
as the men shouted at their hounds...their hands waved in dismay.
I laid there for days...

When I finally left my post? It wasn't much of her left...
The men had left her to rot - the vultures got at her best.
I didn't get to say bye...and those men don't think I care,
they just wanted me for their circus...I woulda hated it there
I simply sat and I stared - her splattered brain on the rocks,
I just wanted so bad to walk away with my mom...
summer sun on my fur... salmon caught in my jaw...
now I'm going down river all alone as I walk,
scared of everything, skittish, from the hope that I've lost.
dreams of kisses, sleepy cuddles, things a mama bear does,
but they made a boy a man when they got me to run.

[Sinacog]

From birth, we decide to follow a standard we've accepted as right
the views of another's sight, therefore we've rejected the light
obscured eyes become a faulty source of the lessons they write
fictitious stories fed to us as a reflection of life

Am I to believe that these Happy Days of Our Lives lead to Wonder Years?
and that Jason, not Dora and the Wonders Pets is the one to fear
well I've said Candyman five hundred fifty-five times still no one's appeared
can't get my child to listen, yet everyday Spongebob's in their fuckin ear
but I left my imagination in Foster's Home, what remains is a cautious soul
innocent lives taken everyday at the hands of your Paw Patrol
it was the same in my youth...
I too was distracted by our square friend's tales then
poison powder ushered in by the mail man and I was too busy focusing on becoming quail man
until I realized that the sands of life keep flowing when the tale ends
so your stories are only half truths with no tellings of the tail end
I'm sayin, if Monica's marriage fails, are Ross and Chandler still Friends?
as the reels spin, our attention's the Deadliest Catch they can reel in
how could you ever expect to learn The Facts of Life without grasping life
in Hell's Kitchen, chin inches above the assassin's knife
the Empire has made us peasants, The Walking Dead, simply zombified
victims of a sublime design, a stagnant flock in the fathers eyes
we have corruption running rampant and other actual scandals
buried under who sits and stands for your national anthem
these Tom and Jerry games you play, all your laughable antics
we watch the news seeking the truth and find the facts that you planted
listen...
you cant cover up What's Happening on the bottom just cause you name a show Good Times
and The First 48 is never the first 48 of any hood crime
the struggle for Power is real, but every man cut from that cloth knows that the power's in steel
still us surrendering our viewership leaves power instilled
all of you couch potatoes are food for the taking, you fools have been Taken
opened your home without establishing any Rules of Engagement
your consciousness forever trapped within their tools of containment
on the Outer Limits of reality, the cruelest of places
your overseer ever watching, not the usual face
the ones who brought you there were puppets, merely used and replaced
...
do you know how many teen moms have been created by Teen Mom
or how many episodes of The Wire has robbed us of high school phenoms
but rather than dream on, we'd rather cling on
to another's sweat and success and use it as a crutch to lean on
watching their every life decision, thinking they pawns when we pawns
cause aint no reason in hell you should be up 2am watching ping pong
your being manipulated and you don't even know it

Conformity
I truly wish that I could tell you I avoided the trap
see my individuality makes me apart of a pack
a target at that, but I hardly have a mark on my cap
they just invent seductive ways to try calling me back
I've been to that other plane, it almost caused me to crack
I'm a survivor of the system, mind partly intact