Art iLLery vs Tha Talent (Banishment Topical Battle)

[trap.]

03-23-2005



Art

Beautiful
Was her name, and in the fruit of her youth she was raped
She was hurt but alone, keeping the child and the man's DNA
A weak child he remained in the hospital for two weeks
Struggling to stay alive inside, she named her boy Unique
Broken.
inside, whenever he spoke they were lies
When he stroked in the skies with the smoke in his eyes
He played in hazy fields of daisies for the bathing
He winced at the pain when the demons struck and called him Lady
Maybe he'd try escaping, but the thought never crossed the tracks
His train of thought was lost and left no hope of coming back
He returned home to Beautiful, broken. Battered with bruises
She would gather the nooses but knew they were useless
She didn't want to cause harm, she just wanted her son safe
Another or the one way, she protected from what some'd say
Sadly, hurting badly, Beautiful wished he had his Daddy
But regardless of how he was treated, Unique remained happy.
It was beautiful.

They broke him.
Knew his mom was leaving so they broke in
Found the pages he wrote in and ripped the pages open
They gazed at his art, unable to decipher his words
So in hate they surrounded Unique to strike him in turns
They teased and laughed, "Unique, where are your flowers fag?"
He smiled all the while, until the hour passed
The assailants left now and he was scared to death
The demons let him live but they didn't spare his flesh
He wanted to be Beautiful.
So he found new pages to a new book to continue his art
But the menu, his heart, had been the venue from start
Till it was broken.

So Beautiful.
Began watching her child in the field, he played peacefully
She watched as the boys gathered weapons, and approached him eagerly
They would hit and scratch then they'd kick him in the back
And Unique would sit still, even though he flinched, he laughed
Beautiful watched as Unique was broken, as they were harrasing him
He was broken but saw beauty in their vicious smiles, so he laughed with them
But the laughter would send the boys madder - and then
Unique stopped laughing once he was hit in the back of his head
The boy dropped the red rock, tears swelled in his eyes
Though it was the rock that was broken, he feared Unique would die
The boys' vicious grins were gone, the scene left them moaning
And they enclosed on Unique, until Beautiful broke in.
They broke him.

The beautiful
rythmic beating of the machines livened the scene
They would puncture his flesh but Unique would smile and bleed
As he would breathe, as he sleeped, Unique would still smile
But Beautiful was broken, she couldn't bare to lose her child
Back in the hospital, the tubes back in his arms
The doctors performed all sorts of tests but he laughed at the harm
The ignorance of children had filled them and their hearts were hard
They couldn't understand Unique, and how he was born a retard
He thought it was a game, that's why he laughed at the pain
And the children had to almost kill him before they had plans to change
For the first time Beautiful smiled, "so long as his eyes are open
I'm happy because my child is happy being beautifully broken."



Tha Talent

the sound of a timpani is that of a tight wound vibration
the thin metal awakens in the most lively creation
a high pitch elation, the beat pierces their hearts
in a coy, youthful spirit, silence is breached by a dart
the broken drum beats echoes through the beautiful village
through the grasslands and jungles, with no loose ends or limits
it stays true to it's image, as a tool for the youth and the women
a way to feul an exhibit of the roots of their spirits.
with a tin, broken clang, they proved their beauty existant.

Kato was a young hearder, but his passion was timpani
he loved the utter simplicity of the instruments rigid beats
he loved the clang under the palms of his hands
or the mallots he used to harden the clash and harken the mass
he loved the way he felt as he played alongside the elders
as the rest of the village circled the fiery embers
of the central pit, and they entered a deep, spiritual chant
but they had tears in their clasp as they gripped eachothers hands
in a sordid effect, they were all sort of a wreck, as the pyer was lit
over the fire, the burning of three bodies who died through the week
the findings were bleak - the blinding disease
had taken three more victims in its timeless increase.
and Kato beat into his drums, he beat the songs of the dead
and he played with his heart, but his heart boggled his head.

Shuma was a fighter by nature, a danger with dagger
master with spears and graceful in battle
she had shimmering skin underneath dreded hair
and a reputed fierce temper, that kept the men scared
she was a loner, solo by nature, she was a hunter
because she loved the tranquility that slumbers in jungles
she never cared for the timpani or it's hollow sound
she never followed the chanting, refused to fall to the ground.
but this night at the circle, while feigning an interest,
Shuma noticed the eyes of a young, faceless timpanist.

with in two weeks, they made love under the moon light
she was a strong, free spirit, he a thin, cool type
their bodies came together in a perfect jigsaw
but between the curves of hips was an overlooked flaw.

the flickering red and orange of the pyre was hypnotic
the twisting and turning was constant, as was her attempt at logic.
she claimed it nonsense, as the fire illuminated her face
which was mangled in a gaze that loomed and flayed at her pain
he was gone, part of a pile of bodies, six more from this week
he had struck the thorn of disease, she's left to mourn for his peace
now her death forlorn from this beast, she's left to chore for a week
before she can reach the final destination...but now she sways as she notices
it seems so beautiful, the way that the flames change in their brokeness
the way the chanting refuses to subside to the hopelessness
it mirrors her people's simplicity.
it was then that Shuma truly realized the broken beauty of the timpani.