Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

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    Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17



    Quote Originally Posted by Lyrics
    Welcome to the new open mic mag! If you're reading this that means you've become eligible to be amazed and astounded, I mean... Just check some of the quality drops that are floating around in RBs open mic sect. In part of a bi weekly recap we'll give you the first look at the best that’s here and showcase some interest with our unique concepts, beefs, critiques and collabs. Get ready because it's a real writers wake up call and were keeping on that path. If there’s anything you’d like to see in this forum give it a shout too!
    Quote Originally Posted by El Villain
    Welcome to the first edition of the biweekly magazine for the motherfucking Open Mic!!! Brought to you by the greatest open mic mods of the 2010 era, El Villain and Bobby Lyrics!!! We're gonna be going over the best of each month for the first half of 2017. We are going to go over the historical league that was Sacred Scriptures, RIP! We are going to go over the writers and pieces that inspired us growing up on Rapbattles. We are going to be going over anything and everything Topical related so y'all best believe this is going to be LONG AS FAWK!!! So grab some pizza, grab a beer and relax in your Lazy Boy Recliner... because here we go!!! **Plays Felt Volume 2**

    January of 2017

    Quote Originally Posted by A Fishy Tale by Baron Mynd
    I watch from the edge of the tempered-glass ridge
    - plotting revenge on the one that's kept me captive.
    If you've ever had fish that you've placed in a tank
    then I'll bet my back fin that they hate you for that!
    The same thing must happen at every store within the city
    "Take a look at this one, mom, isn't it pretty?"
    "I want this little fishy!" the young nominal gasps
    with sticky fingers insisting on prodding the glass.
    I shot her a glance that conveyed my contempt
    while gobbling gaseous bubbles to try and state my intent.
    I knew the way this would end once I'd heard the noisy one shout
    so I turned-tail and I left soon as she pointed me out!
    I loitered around the gravel bed and iridescent accessories
    avoiding for now the small fishing net from detecting me.
    Sensing the end was near I gulped, and dove down below,
    before I fled somewhat desperately into a shoal of my own.
    With the net closing in slowly, I sped up my speed,
    - I know it's ignoble but I'd sooner it was them and not me!
    I wasn't ready to leave, though my primary concern
    was that I'd seen so many deceived only to never return!
    With my fins peddling nervously, I turned right and I baulked
    to see my "friends" had dispersed, having realised I'd been caught!
    I was prised from the water open-mouthed at what had just passed
    where my eyes met the daughters holding me aloft in a bag.
    "I promised my dad I'd take care of you," the custodian lied.
    The polymer plastics properties choked my reply.
    With a roll of the eyes, I was free falling through the air and quick -
    plonking into a bowl on the side of a room that was garish pink.
    The human I shared it with often bleated and blared
    with all the usual superlatives like "I'll clean it, I swear!"
    Within weeks I was scarcely even glanced at as she passed
    & the over-feed from her parents started to gather in the tank.
    The gravel pit was blackening where algae sits on the rocks
    - she hasn't cleaned the glass in here since the filter was blocked.
    So I swim in a clockwise motion with my head up against the cell
    while thinking of what it would take to get out and save myself.
    I delved in the dainty dwelling, where I thought for a bit,
    and my impending fate propelled me even more than my fins.
    This dirty waters beginning to grate on my gills
    I swear the chlorine I'm swimming in's what's making me ill.
    Maybe by building up momentum and staying close to the right,
    I could escape it by tilting the fish bowl on its side?
    But with oxygen low in supply, once the water displaced,
    my only hope of survival would be a crawl to the drains.
    All it would take was the smallest mistake and that would be it!
    I really wasn't sure I would make it, so I sat dragging my fins.
    The gravel I'd kicked up began floating atop
    as I lapped up a drink, smacking my lips, and closely I watched.
    A froth of foam carried flotsam that grouped at the edge
    which the overseers' mom would sometimes remove with a net.
    I knew in that second what awaited me since
    if she presumed I was dead, I might just be able to live!
    The wait is horrific but I give my best performance to date
    and play dead implicitly, only blinking when sure that it's safe.
    Hours sprawl into days; A wry smile leaves from my mouth
    when the daughter exclaims "Mom, quick, Bieber has drowned!"
    Keeping my mouth closed, the fish nets shadow hits my face
    I feel it teasing me out of the water before it carries me away.
    With a splash I give my tail a flick and swim for my life
    having chanced on an escape tunnel within the pipe!
    In the distance behind, I hear a flush hissing at me,
    - and feel a wave whisking me by as I adjust diligently.
    This must be freedom I think to myself as I open my eyelids.
    If there's plenty more fish in the sea, here's hoping I find 'em...
    Quote Originally Posted by Feedback by Lyrics
    Just wow.. Baron, bravo. I mean this was very light hearted writing in its cleverest shine. your story resonated so well in the writing, The metaphors and personifications were off the fishing hook man lmao, I mean I don't know where my props can begin, the story telling brought me to a new fish out of water, from his first interaction with the girl standing his ground, to her pointing him out and him hiding, watching his friends flee when he got caught. being put in the tiny bowl in the pink room, in uncleaned filth for weeks, lol this was a funny but heartfelt for the fish at the same time, i couldnt help but feel bad as a reader how the imagery was presented, the chlorine, and constant planning and plotting to escape. great writing man. It was truly presented as pretty struggling imagery to think a living thing could be subjected to, and in such a common fashion how i could easily imagine it would be.. The ignorant pet owner, I actually just wrote a poem similar earlier that hits these type of metaphors. based on a true story called he waits- i think youd enjoy the slight comparison. Mechanically this was sound, a blend of flow and immersive story-telling that you should definitely be credited for. thanks for the read, looking forward to your next

    February of 2017

    Quote Originally Posted by Across the Sea by El Villain
    Finishing up my shift in five, mind is tied to tonight's surprise,
    my brother turns twenty nine, awaiting the city lights and stripper's eyes.
    Clocking out as my phone rings, my nephew appears on the caller ID,
    it's a quarter to three... he should be in class instead of bothering me.
    I answer hesitantly, "hey buddy, sorry but I'm a tad busy..."
    listening as he sobs, my jaw cringes and locks, "...dad was fishing..."
    Apparently he took too much vicodin and his body couldn't handle it,
    after minutes of silence and rubbing my eyelids, I tried to channel this.
    "Okay kid, I'll be there to get you soon so hang out with your friends,"
    my fist's clenched, head throbbing from this tense pinch on both ends.
    Tears soaking my beard as I try to disappear unseen by my boss,
    stuck thinking about my loss, panicking for my keys like they're lost.
    Driving over the speed limit, I see visions of us laughing,
    so hard to breathe this in, like I'm beneath waves that keep crashing.
    I fail to notice the police sirens or the train before it smites my car,
    head bouncing in dismay... my dreams display our lives in the stars.
    We're sitting on a boat, feet in the sea, my brother leans in to speak,
    "take care of my son, you schmuck," gives me a hug and dives into the deep.
    I keep searching but the ocean's black, I'm afraid to leave someone behind,
    and I can feel my emotions stack as the weight begins to bludgeon my spine.
    A warmth on my chest, my nephew shakes me back to life,
    I'm sore but blessed, embracing his love like it's the last I'll find.
    A couple weeks after the funeral, I take him to a beautiful spot on the pier,
    "your dad and I loved it here," he smiles while he drops his gear.
    we share a couple laughs, catch some fish and talk with ease,
    - I unfold my chair then relax...
    he does the same and together we gaze across the sea.
    Quote Originally Posted by Feedback by The Law
    Really great story. The best part about this was emotion and details you focus'd on perfecting instead of doing anything super crazy with the storyline. Imagery and character emotion displayed was well written there were definitely spots that I was visualizing the story in my head play out as I was reading it, which, tbh majority of writers fail to truly have that effect on the reader. Also, subconsciously seeing hugh jackman at of the corner of my eye with the beard made me visualize him with the tear soaked beard lol. Logan can't catch a break.

    Another part I liked was the dreamlike state after the crash of a beautiful scene, the fathers comment and then disappearing which would then go on to symbolize the ending scene of them gazing out at the see. Really great drop on a family loss and the ability to turn mourning into a peaceful respect for their loved one.

    If I am going to leave any critique, possibly would like to know what happened to the brother at the beginning. As this is happening on his birthday, he's probably taken a hard hit as well, but is only mentioned once in the beginning. Also, I couldn't get over the phrase "smite my car" for some reason. Probably just me, but I thought the word usage could have been stronger there. Other than that the damn thing is written near perfection with what it does has.

    Very enjoyable, well done.

    March of 2017

    Quote Originally Posted by The Watcher by Self Activate
    I'm as ancient as the Sea, I speak the language of the trees
    I've been around for a while since the Nile was just a stream
    ... In the Valley of the Kings I was graciously received ...
    ... By a council of deceased ancestors in my dream ...
    Who addressed me then decreed that I would lead the Elohēm
    Out of Egypt into Crete so we could teach the eager Greeks
    All the secrets of the deep that they would need to take the leap
    Into the Age of Socrates so they could gradually exceed their limitations
    & achieve an imitation of our nation that dramatically increased every facet & degree
    Of their crass society; we unwrapped the galaxies, taught them crafts & alchemy
    And how to crack an atom's seam so they could take a peek inside
    & peep the patterns that we weaved out of matter made of "strings"
    Yes the fabric was indeed an elaborate tapestry, that was masterfully conceived
    To capture all reality, in a fragment, or a piece, of a fraction, or a tease, of a fractal
    That repeats, every similarity that we can "factually" perceive; but do you actually believe
    That we accidentally or just haphazardly came into existence in the absence of a being
    With supreme divinity? I'm just asking just to see what you passionately think
    Are we Adam and his Eve or two atoms' crashed debris ... or are we fast asleep
    In a breeding factory feeding masses of machines like a massive battery?
    Or perhaps the fallacy is that your tax backet's key and your cash and salary
    Can turn a Jack into a King? Like the brass colored ring you can flash & you can gleam
    ... But that doesn't mean you're gold, you're still copper mixed with zinc ...
    Unless you upgrade your soul like the Buddha by the Bo and you know the Wardrobe
    Is no portal to the throne cos the Emperor's new clothes aren't as formal as they seem
    Cos he seized the cargo of his mortal enemies! His ensemble is deception ...
    It's invisible inception! A story and a warning of inglorious perfection ...
    To inform you and protect you if your sanity should fail & your vanity prevails
    Like a fantasy or tale, that is candidly detailed, with a moral or a lesson
    Yes, I'm pouring on the ethics, allegorical connections: If the course of the weather
    ... Is the source of your depression than a "storm" is a blessin' ...
    When you're scorchin' in the desert, ask the poor or a peasant, if the rain isn't precious
    But a wave is unpleasant, when the pressure starts to rise, and the days start to lessen
    And you're stressin' your demise; now the pain of the leper is a question on your mind
    And the weight of your treasure is a feather in the sky, cos no matter what it measures
    Every debtor has to die! Cause everything's collected: every debt, and every dime ...
    Every tick, and every chime, of every second, of the minute, that is spent inside the shrine
    Of a labyrinth of lies, filled with ignorance and pride, just like Icarus in flight ...
    If you really wish to fly, you should prolly get advice, from the guys that did it Wright!

    ~~ Be wise!
    Quote Originally Posted by Feedback by Lyrics
    I love it, i always marvel writtens from a god perspective and this was probably one of the best adaptations ive read, which makes me conclude you must actually be god, writing a rap real quick. Anyways if that isnt the case, this piece was was pretty insane man. Great visuals and just at a pure theological stand point this was really insightful, ancient egypt greece, jumped into string theory , adam and eve, fast asleep massive battery, it was great being brought along the visuals and seeing just a bit of what the watcher makes possible huh. I mean the budda by the bo and the emperors new clothes, there were some really thoughtful instances of wording which i really appreciate as a fellow writer, this was crafted very nicely self! I thought the ending also closed very strong using the debt collected not just as something monetary but as a metaphor for the time spent at the shrine. That bit of insight maybe the highlight of the piece for me (even though i liked the wright brothers reference too you clever fuck!)thanks for the read!

    El Villain's Favorite Writer

    So, as most of you know. I started on RB in the arcade back in 2003 then discovered the rap forum aspect of it all in 2005 when I was twelve years old. At first, I thought all the text battling and audio stuff was cool as fuck. With 8-Mile and being a 12-year-old Stan. Then I discovered the Open Mic growing up on this site, my favorite writer was ALWAYS Engivale. His story telling. The way he wrote. The guy was always one of the most consistent and creative writers on this site and honestly in a Topical battle I'd predict him over anyone from any site any day. He was the best of the best in my opinion and I always wanted to write like him. How he could walk into the Open Mic or Sacred Scriptures and write a masterpiece to any given topic. The guy was FIRE before being fire was even cool. Here's a dope example for y'all...

    Quote Originally Posted by Everybody Knows
    The Modern Man's got a plan and he's sure of it,
    He stopped trying to find where his mind and his courage hid,
    Even the Purest Kid will be stained with the blood,
    ashamed of his love and the pain in his brain he blames on the drug.
    The issues aren't new, they're the same as before,
    we're trainin' the poor to make soliders to feel the pain of the war,
    We accept as a fact of life what wouldn't be if we had the sight
    to see we could change it but noone acts ; we don't think that we have the right...
    So we go to our jobs through this world of hoses and knobs,
    spiders, roaches & frogs and writers, dopeheads & slobs,
    bad drivers, cynics and unapproachable snobs,
    people that can't even cry when they try to cope with a loss...
    We can't even say what we feel, It's as if the day isn't real,
    we'd rather pretend it's a dream than scream and fall prey to the Meal,
    This clicking I hear is just the noise as I type,
    my choice is to write about my regret --- the poison of life...

    We condemn the atrocities in addendums and glossaries,
    like the Men Metastophales sentenced at the end like apostrophes.
    But what we disapprove of we make no effort to stop,
    we do nothing instead of giving something better a shot...
    It's what doesn't resist when parents give up on their kids,
    it's when you just say "Fuck it," when you know someone's at risk.
    It's when there's no love in a kiss and it's just a Tradition,
    it's alone with two kids because her husband's in prison...
    And all of these policies and personal properties
    are just words on a paper so why don't you follow these?
    All these Idolatries and rules you obey are just
    Around what's inside you like pie through a layered crust,
    You'd watch with concern while people got put on crosses to burn,
    If you stayed quiet while they died what could you possibly learn?
    Their ashes tossed in an urn, they screamed for help and you didn't,
    when you fail to act it's not good feelin' responsible, Is it?

    I'm cheated of justice, it's unfair and I'm bleeding from cut wrists,
    I keep searching for the answer and then it finally just clicks,
    My mind is the substance, what's behind it is me -
    what I think has nothing to do with what I'll finally be,
    But by design that I see it, my eyes close and the lie's clothed,
    it's a hidden agenda, you find it and then the surprise blows,
    Everything's out of proportion, I see the Four Horsemen,
    Plague and Wrath just play and laugh with your foreskin,
    We walk through our daily lives like bees in a maze of hives,
    And even if we ever found our way would we stay disguised?
    I guess I accept that I'll be dead before I ever die,
    I'll stop caring about everything and suffer but never cry,
    I'll just be smiling for show, I'll just be talking to talk,
    I'll be the guy waiting to leave and watching the clock,
    I used to think I wanted love and peace, not World War 3,
    and if we saw the end of it all - would we even tell the story?




    "Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter." - Martin Luther King
    Quote Originally Posted by Feedback by Born To Kill
    Really nice work, Eng...

    Tight, deep kinda soul-searching rhyme.
    Pretty flawless on format, scheme...everything flowed like water.
    You lost me a couple of times in content, but that's just cuz the shit's real long and I'm kinda high right now...

    Don't really know what else to say...you know your work is dope...and this is no different.
    The most vicious of your rhymes in this piece...

    We condemn the atrocities in addendums and glossaries,
    like the Men Metastophales sentenced at the end like apostrophes.

    I haven't read your opponent's shit yet, but I'm betting he just got his ass kicked.

    Peace
    This is just a prime example of the kind of shit this guy was capable of. If you don't like it then leave Open Mic because you have no idea what writing is bro.


    By Bobby Lyrics

    Quote Originally Posted by Lyrics
    What's new homie??
    *Kaotic sips coffee*

    Quote Originally Posted by Kaotic
    Nothing much man just been going through life lol getting old and what not, Working and trying to see what i can accomplish or eat shit and fail at....Whichever come first.
    Quote Originally Posted by Lyrics
    Lol I'm sure you're going to do well fam, were all getting old quick
    What brought you back to rb?
    Quote Originally Posted by Kaotic
    Well honestly how could you not? Well at least for myself
    Rb is like my childhood neighborhood as you get older you always tend to drive by or even stop and take a peek to see if it changed or is just as you left it....unfortunately it changed drastically. I guess the haiku league starting up is what made me stay this time.
    Quote Originally Posted by Lyrics
    Yeah like our childhood neighborhood! Great metaphor lol many memory lanes.the haiku league is really fun I must admit! Shouts to poeta for running it smoothly!
    Who's your favorite new artist in rap?
    Quote Originally Posted by Kaotic
    Damn ummmm. Honestly nobody really lol rap/Hip-Hop sucks so bad these days i like a few good artist but i don't have a favorite lol. Rappers today are growing into a phase where wearing rompers is gangster and that's not something i want to be apart of. I still listen to hip-Hop like The Grouch and what not but. Lately been finding myself content with bumping 21 pilots and Luke Bryan, Don't Judge Me Bitches
    .

    Quote Originally Posted by Lyrics
    Nice I remember grouch I haven't been up to date on them lately, used to bump his music around the same time as I heard about snowgoons. Luke Bryan is dope too those are some quality artists for sure!
    Who's your favorite new writer around?
    Quote Originally Posted by Kaotic
    Depends on who you consider new....but honestly there's a couple but none that i'd consider a favorite, yet i haven't been back long enough. Nor is there that many new writers. Lol my bad
    Quote Originally Posted by Lyrics
    No problem! Hopefully there'll be an influx of some fresh talent to change that!
    Can you remember your favorite piece you’ve ever read in OM?
    Quote Originally Posted by Kaotic
    Man there were so many lol don't want to go back and look. But anything from Lyric/Laureate, Mindless, Engivale even My Boy Nahlidge. There at one time was also a Writer named ELEETE he Was one of the first that i have actually remember seeing around OM....man this Place use to Be Packed With So much talent lol good Memories of this place when i was a Newb.
    Its also refreshing to see You still doing your thing. Wasnt your first OMHOF called The Strangler..lol
    Quote Originally Posted by Lyrics
    Haha it was called the strangler!! It was voted for legends too by feeble minded, and got a lot of buzz from a bunch of the best back when rb was bumping with some real classics thanks for that memory man! Some great writers you mentioned I still wonder about..
    What's your favorite piece you've written?
    Quote Originally Posted by Kaotic
    Ewwwww You bastard lol i dont have one yet lol......i am shit compared to all i've named and so many others lol just saying.....i'm barely getting back into the scene and my memory was clouded like a mf back then so i have yet to write to my potential. But i did a piece with Chris-Topher that hit hof in 07-08 and remember doing a dope one with nah about some crazy ass shit.
    STAY TUNED HOES...
    Quote Originally Posted by Lyrics
    You're still the man kao! We will stay tuned , count on it!!
    What are you doing when your not writing?
    Quote Originally Posted by Kaotic
    When i'm not writing im working....got money on this warriors-Cavs game, i fucking hate lebron. Love sports though. Just started a 12 plant grow with my boy, Really Excited About this Cinderella 99 project though the most. Its pretty neat learning how to legitly take care of a plant and watch it blossom into a bad bitch lol kinda like having a kid in away. So that's what i do lately besides Fishing, and drinking beer with my best buddy we like to just scan iheartradio or pandora for all oldschool and new underground hip-hop and get a couple cases and post up listening man, pretty refreshing.
    Quote Originally Posted by Lyrics
    Word golden state ftw. I think the outcomes sealed at this point lol. Also that project sounds great! I remember c99 very well, a fond tropical mix, very much like pineapple!! Hope yours produce great bro, glad you keep your ear out for that boom bap still, we all should.
    Last question, is there anything you'd like to see in om?
    Quote Originally Posted by Kaotic
    Honestly i'd wet myself completely if we can some how revive it and bring back the glory of the good old days of OM and yet mix it with some new blood. Maybe post a piece of the week type thing where the person can get their work showcased, idk really all though its a small chance in hell id like to just see more writers especially new ones to bless the OM with new styles of writing....hell writing period, even if it sucks post that shit anyway we all start somewhere just gotta take advice from their readers and elevate....and also we need more activity from the experienced writers still around to go and read up on these younger/ newer kids pieces and leave feedback you know? I think on too many occasions people join the site and drop their work but get ignored and they end up leaving. So it's really a team effort. We gotta make this place fun again.
    Quote Originally Posted by Lyrics
    Word. I couldn't agree with you more. Thanks for your time homie. Well make this place funnier than it ever was!!

    Sacred Scriptures

    For those who are know, and for those who were lucky enough to remember it in it's prime, Sacred Scriptures was THE Topical league of Rapbattles.com. Some of the greatest topical battles known to man happened in this league. Engivale vs SmokaJoka. SmokaJoka vs. Chris Black. ThatKidCry vs. Brandon Cee. Blacketh vs Noodle. Kevin Brown vs Elemental Soul. The list is endless. The concept of the league was for writers to pick a topic (or multiple) from a list of given topics every week to write a verse that competed against an opponent's verse. Back in the day, people would write MASTERPIECES, 50-100 lines long. Pieces that never got dull, that never slowed down, that captivated your heart and brain at the same time. In the later year, that fire faded and seasons lacked that perfection but in it's prime... this was the best writing league to ever exist.

    Former Sacred Scriptures Champions:

    Season One: Sand

    Quote Originally Posted by Sureal Verse
    If A Identity Is Mistaken..
    A Wrong Path Has Been Taken..
    ------

    Lying In A Hospital..
    No One Loved Or Noticed Me..
    Lying All Alone..
    Nothing In This World Is Free..
    If I Gave A Penny..
    For All Of The Worlds Thoughts..
    Get A Million Back..
    For All Its People Are Distraught..
    As I Lie Here Still..
    The World Around Me Spins..
    As I Try To Heal..
    My Life Finally Begins..
    Everyone I Love..
    Seems To Have Forgotten Me..
    Everything I Do..
    Respect Was Never Brought to Me..
    Waiting For Death..
    I Try To Speak To The Lord..
    I Sit Quietly..
    But All of My Plees Go Ignored..
    I Want One Answer..
    What Is The Purpose of Life..
    I Finally Hear it..
    I Escape From My Human Strife..
    His Presence Within..
    Begins To Make Me Weary..
    Next, I Awake..
    In A World Made of Theory..
    God Is Talking..
    I Just Sit Quiet And Listen..
    I Can't See Him..
    But His Presence Makes Me Glisten..
    I Can Ask One Thing..
    I Ask 'Whats My Purpose On Earth'..
    A Short Pause..
    Replies 'To Make My Dreams Worth'..
    He Continues..
    Love is All You Need To Live..
    Its Treasured..
    Care Is What You Need To Give..
    One Final Fact..
    But You Are All Mistaken..
    Identity is Virtue..
    Its What You Give, Not Whats Taken..

    -Thank You ...
    vs

    Quote Originally Posted by Sand Verse
    standing in this storm, raindrops splash against my head
    cloudy days are special, like closing your eyes before bed
    as special as death, me i'm dead, but i inhabit this earth
    and roam invisible to everyone so terribly bad that it hurts

    i ask for my worth, but i don't get an answer. . .just tracks
    up into my empty heart where the padded walls are black
    emotions bounce back and forth, i continue down this road
    where the multitudes show smiles brighter than love poems
    i loath the cries and laughs that they can so easily express
    while i envy those green blades on the other side of this fence
    with my thoughts we commence. . .i'm lonely as a fallen star
    lost in the emptiness. . .every sign of affection has gone far
    away from me i pray to see the heavens so gay with glee
    since when i was alive i was only subject to rage and screams
    they paved the dreams that would provide a moments escape
    now seconds are short. . .but still. . .those moments were great
    if i hold them i taste. . .heaven held within my keen senses
    it lasts not long enough. . .but my god. . .the taste is so precious
    i want to bottle it inside eternity and keep it upon my dresser
    asked more or lesser?. .i keep walking and get out of my thought
    legs first i crawl out of it. . .new visions erupt my high hopes a lot
    but gravity has a law. . .so obviously they drop. .i trail an old hag
    who has a fresh soul with a little body parched upon her back
    he glances fast. . .with guilt. . .in a way it was almost secretly
    could it be?. . .surely there is no possible way he can see me
    . . .he showed attention. . .but? . . .how come? what and why
    the woman held him up . . .of course. . i mean surely he's alive
    he gave me his eyes. . .and in an instant i could sense his fear
    rolled back in his mind. . .i sensed his tears. . .it's been years
    decades, centuries, or milleniums since anything has happened
    so i followed with that initial glance. . .and a stroke of passion
    i followed them up a eeiry road. . .the boy began to pout
    so when they got to the door of the gothic style house
    she slapped him in his mouth. . .he screamed "but why?!"
    he cried. . ."where's mommy and daddy?! where is my life!"
    i sprinted and made it in before the door closed. . .i saw
    events that would make a tetanus victim. . .drop his own jaw
    she began to claw. . .she touched him and even rubbed him
    he was 3 years old. . .this lady got naked and fucked him
    the blood ran. . .she sang pleas of worship. . .to make it official
    satanistical . . . she brought him to the fire . . . like a ritual
    she screamed the odd tones like lost moans he screamed
    and the flames charred his liquid life. . .as he continued to bleed
    i was awe struck. dumbfounded. immobilized. . .all in my mind
    so i sacrificed my life. . .became one with the fire and died. . .

    standing in this storm, raindrops splash against my head
    cloudy days are special, like closing your eyes before bed
    as special as death, me i'm dead, but i carry a soft light
    and i still roam invisible to everyone. . .but i make this life. life


    I'm a guardian angel.
    Season Two: Deacon

    Quote Originally Posted by Dev Verse
    So I arose to decompose?……..…….. Fuck no!
    But if I did im gonna go doing things I chose
    And dispose, turning all my roles & responsibilities…
    …To conspiracies, and start taking more liberties
    Telling those who tell me, “ive got bigger places to see”
    You see, me, I wanna compose a life full, not empty
    I wanna do plenty, & make the most of my entry
    So I’m diagnosed “he lived healthy” when inevitably I die
    Engrossed in having fun til my life runs dry…
    That’s why…
    …I quit my position, I told my boss to fuck off
    I joined the opposition, signed once a week along the dots
    Im in the system, but not, cos ive got more brains
    Now I’m claiming for two, one with my twin’s name…
    Cos we look the same, but in the main ive changed
    Ive rearranged my life to suit a route more suited
    Cos Ive contributed enough, now’s its time to pursue it
    So no more being looted, now I shoot with an aim
    But in a different ball game, where my goal is just play’n
    & staying the prankster, a total drain to society
    Never seeking to be subjected to anything like anxiety…
    …Or psychiatry, cos you’re a long time dead, to dust
    & the lives of us, in comparison, it isn’t very much
    It’s a needle in a hay stack, & we aint the one that combusts…
    … when the heat is thrust!
    So just remember the deal, when you rot & reveal your cards
    That you don’t discard the joker, & the aces run hard!
    Cos scarred flesh still chars & its claimed by the earth
    So why not plough it from the day she gave birth
    Then when you die you rest knowing your grounds worth!
    vs

    Quote Originally Posted by Deacon Verse
    The day fades surely to landscapes of inertia
    was it worth it? a man made scene picture perfect,
    With Verse's to interpret inscribing ways to worship,
    It's worthless for me, constant abuse and a poor version
    of a person converted while serving lifes purpose?

    Well I need peace in me cause im a rotting breed,
    while I force feed my dying plea to a god i've never seen.
    My bleeding seized prosperity while im grounding knees for clarity.
    It merits me to believe that what they sees reality
    so whats real to me? increased funeral fees for the loss of gravity?

    If it wasnt for Her

    Well she keeps me alive daily, praying for my safety
    engraving faces into field frames and still she saved me
    she's amazing and sacred to my life and how I make it
    and if I trade my life away I hope to God for his patience
    So he erased it and replaced it with the love im embraced with

    His reason for life: a letter for her

    I was thinking it's a sign that the freckles
    in our eyes are mirror images and when
    we kiss they're perfectly aligned

    and I have to speculate that god himself
    did make us into corresponding shapes like
    puzzle pieces from the clay

    and true, it may seem like a stretch, but
    its thoughts like this that catch my troubled
    head when you're away when I am missing
    you to death

    A moment in limbo

    they will see us waving from such great
    heights, "come down now," they'll say
    but everything looks perfect from far away,
    "come down now," but we'll stay...

    yours truly,
    Justin
    Season Three: Auspicious

    Quote Originally Posted by Auspicious Verse
    Clairvoyance
    1. The supposed power to see objects or events that cannot be perceived by the senses.
    2. Acute intuitive insight or perceptiveness.

    Opening segments credits the life of Gnivas Ecarg
    Who sits n’ spits at guards far behind prison bars
    They’d hit his scars, lie to him n’ sit back with a Heineken
    Gnivas felt no regress cuz he knew the Life of Them
    They’d rain on his head for mistaken content so they forsake him instead
    Because these Racists ferment his Jamaican descent
    He had a friend whose name was Lous Lufnis
    Who watched the sunken men of punches and had enough of this
    His motion is an emotion devoted to the souls of the old n’ the hopeless
    Until he took motion, and the guard opened his face
    But before he swung back, Gnivas grabbed his arm n’ said “Please, No Wait”
    As a man across the yard grabbed a bar n’ went after him
    As they watched the watch tower over-power his abdomen
    (n’ that was the last of him)

    Lous, who doused himself for self, as a guy stole his Cigarettes
    He quickly grabbed them back until Gnivas came in “No Lous, Give Him It”
    He replied, “I Gave Em’ A Five, anymore then I’ll Give him my Pride!”
    But when the guy flicked the butt, gas fumes on the field Burned Him Alive
    This Turned him Inside, though he’d vote to Loath the Notion
    So how many Sad eyes must close before one Pair of Happy Ones Open?
    They’d Attentively Settle For a Melody Tellin Me of all that Hell Could See
    & Coincidentally the Penalties send a requisite to the mental of Mentally
    this was eventually a solution that what Waring Thin
    because they thought of Gnivas Ecarg was evil n’ didn’t Care for Him
    None Compared to Him thus concealing his Broken Heart
    But he focused hard to try n’ show them something you Know You Are
    He’d try n’ break the seal, cuz the steel would be a Persistent Hoard
    He wanted them to hear..
    but if they never opened their ears.. what would they Listen For?

    Lous Lufnis didn’t mind cell life and was fine with it
    They thought of him as a symbol for all in confinement
    Minus Gniv, who was as Odd as they Told
    Until that day in the cold, when he was Promised Parole
    The promises promised his freedom and Soiled to Go
    Knowing full well that when he left
    ..The Boilers would Blow
    He thought inadequate practices as they’d laugh at him
    His Clairvoyance annoyed him but he went back in after them
    His Hope Opened him, as his cell mates seen him and were Struck Surprised
    As he said nothing, went down the stairs as they Followed Close Behind
    The guards broke his stride, as he put an attack on them
    And turned down the boiler pressure that they Tampered with
    Shortly After this, The Dagger Staggered Inside His Ribs
    N’ everyone minus Gniv, realized he Died for Them

    This Backwards World Hurled the Efforts they were Afraid to Make
    Cuz..
    Lous Lufnis and the Sinful Souls were liberated by Gnivas Ecarg’s Saving Grace
    vs

    Quote Originally Posted by Tim Verse
    Los Angeles, Ca
    choking on your allure

    let me fortify my city's broken promise,
    built on the notion to be legitimately honest.
    built by the ocean, supposed to be a potion, a remedy,
    but we've polluted our ocean
    abandoned our minds, and that's what's meant to be?!
    with fashion accessories more expensive than my life,
    with a starbucks
    at each side of the street adding to pandemonium and strife.
    amber waves in majestic seas', seems like quite a moment to seize,
    but still our city's sleeping in sleaze .....not sleeping in peace,
    but in pieces! still a cure exists...
    and it isn't found in your painted lips,
    or your fake, grotesque, lopsided tits.
    maybe we do need microchips in our wrists,
    at least, then, our brains would be missed.
    well, would they?
    could they ever?
    convince Hell-A that what we're doing is clever?
    i'd love to say, "never", but i don't think that that's the case.
    it's the masked marionette's who are running the place.
    complacently faced two-faced strangers everytime we step outside,
    so we've been provided with paranoia to sit behind and hide.
    locking our doors five times, just to keep the "fiends" at bay.
    well, you can thank 'Puto' Pete Wilson for making things this way.
    we want them, we fear them, we take them, then leave them,
    and we won't let them see a doctor....even if they're having trouble breathin'.
    these hethanistic pollicies represent the end to me,
    and our apathetic choices leave us sleeping with the enemy.
    but when you bloody up the fetus...you only de-fetus.
    though, we're only doing what our pop culture teachers teach us.
    they leach on to us, ludicrously lunging at our throats.
    forcing down the patriot act, but hoping we don't choke.
    these constant contradictions constantly support my growing suspicion.
    poor decissions leave me baffled, though i laugh 'till i'm in stitches.
    we're told to bow to those with riches, glitches in our pyramid scheme,
    But Banking Bucks from Buckless Brothers does not define decency
    IS THIS THE CITY OF ANGELS??!?! or THE CITY THAT STRANGLES?!?
    choking on your allure
    we put promenades on every corner, so our city looks less mangled...
    but whichever angle you choose to view it,
    Los Angeles held my heart and stabbed right through it..
    Season Four: Brixton

    Quote Originally Posted by 'Brixton Verse"
    Why I Picked You Back Up:
    Strung Love



    For all the time combined, that sits at the back of my mind
    I never ONCE put you down when I was smacking a line..

    Still while I was acting a joke, & carried on racking the smokes
    Dr. Frost warned me of a marriage to a packet of snow..

    But I'm different..
    ..as I've always had the glow of ignorance.



    I'm a typical brother & a lover of music, my Mother confused it
    With a work dodging son who just wouldn't do shit.
    Telling me, my direction was useless.. she was a clueless enemy
    & she only ever passed on her ruthless energy.
    Her man was her center piece, & while he preached "I better be"
    A teen on the streets could see the future ahead of me.
    To start busking a legacy, while small change made me, & my bass
    Get to taste food, & make do - as the city's familiar face.
    Became a linear race, which made hot bins & steam holes homely
    Cuz for people who know me..
    ..know four strings kept me from being lonely.
    If only..

    E: I could be the person my Father always wanted me to be.
    A: My Mother was only here to see..

    So a year passed with severe aches in my back from the concrete
    Cracks in the floor, that I asked for when I came on the streets?
    I'm famed for deceit now, cuz I took the leace of a vow & failed
    Wishing my letters of pitty would stop getting lost in the mail.
    For each stamp that fails, puts another bar to the door in my jail.
    & another nail impales, an already crucified complexion thats pale.
    ALL HAIL!
    The white ghost who's trail is whiter than the coke in his nose.
    Would it have helped those confused, if I'd spoken in prose?
    Or as poetry goes? To define those who actually asked right.
    Religious boffs working at night:
    "So the Demon come in the darkness, to hand you a black life?"
    For I, was constantly shaded by the black light, & what was said
    Was simply seeking reformation with them.. or wind up dead.

    D: They could see in my eyes, and see through the lies..
    G: That I might hate the world, but its me I despise.




    With renewed positivity, a feul in me picked my bass back up
    Back to busking the streets hoping I could rake back luck.

    With my hate smacked shut, money in pocket to reform old tricks
    Surely a brother has the time for one last fix?

    I'm different..
    ..as I've always had the glow of ignorance. I'm never alone..
    Say a prayer for the bums who never made it home.

    BECAUSE YOU WALK PAST & IGNORE THEM EVERY FUCKING DAY.
    vs

    Quote Originally Posted by 'Bounce Verse"
    When the Lights go Out: Tainted Love


    Consumed by darkness my flesh revolts in contortion
    entombed, I can mark this by fresh jolts of distortion
    like failed abortions, I bare scars of the unwanted
    undaunted in the presence of pure evil, I'm taunted
    by a haunted past, left burning by some flaunted ass
    when all I ever wanted, was a better half...

    She infected my mind, body and soul with a kiss
    but what she stole was more than the average miss
    savage as shit, knowingly toying w/a venomous clit
    on a mission to spread death in every position hit
    when bedding bliss turned to blisters, suspicion bit
    but now my condition's sick...

    Hooked to I.V.'s I've died three times already,
    so I'm ready to face death, wasting away, unsteady
    rotting in my own flesh, as fluids stream steady
    down cheeks stained by a million tears, I'm barely here
    but I feel the compounded pain of a billion years,
    surrounded by a trillion fears...

    I'm but a skeleton of the man I once was, alone in life
    these sunken eyes no longer see, only shadows & light
    consoled by the faint beeps of the machines that fight
    to save life, sentenced to die by a tainted bombshell
    but when the bombs fell, I was left standing in hell
    so heed the message in the story I tell...

    I'm dying one organ at a time, ravaged by an STD
    HIV to full blown AIDS in a matter of months & 3 MD's
    I piss blood & shit infective waste w/ no taste for food
    my waist is chewed, all that's left is skin and bone,
    open sores, and leaking wounds.. I grin and moan
    uncontrollably, & have violent spasms take a toll on me
    leaving me twisted on all levels of fucked!

    Truth is...

    When the lights go out...

    A tainted love can kill
    ..so glove the one you love,
    before you love
    ..the one that's ill
    Season Five: Tim

    Quote Originally Posted by 'Johnny 6-Feet Verse"
    The Good Die Young (But…)

    Cold in the coffin, a corpse, stiff and rotten
    Decayed brain long emptied of villainous plotting
    A marked martyr of an age past, picture insane laughs
    Bloody screams of soldiers cut down like blades of grass
    To here the explorer comes at last, the ancient crypt
    Harsh letters blazed in stone declared his bane a gift

    “Here’s lies Lamenter the terrible, his bones at rest
    A warlord of great power, no man alone could best
    Died age of 53 on the border of Scilly
    Betrayed by his own lieutenant, end of the dynasty
    He rests now, from the poisoned knife in his right shoulder
    The Good die young, but the Bad die older
    A death by treachery creates a curse to appear
    So abandon all hope ye who enter here”

    The reader, for a moment, bowed his head in reverence
    And descended the cold steps of tortured stone’s entrance


    See The Lines

    Embracing the darkness now, he lights the flare of a torch
    Awareness of danger was naught, he was scared but he fought
    Faint whispers of ghostly voices on the edge of his hearing
    Unsteadily he walked with a foggy mind

    “There’s the clearing!”

    A hundred feet below the surface, the vastness of space
    His light giving the eon old blackness a shape

    “My God”

    He murmured, there, arranged in a dozen lines
    Caskets by the thousands grim enough to shudder spines


    Only God Now Knows

    He stepped forward breathlessly, took in the tableaux
    An army of the dead in military-like rows
    Time seemed to freeze here, impaled still by stone columns
    A true home for the misbegotten and long forgotten
    He halted, his search beheld the object of his quest
    A rune encrypted coffin in the centre of this mess
    Now what project was next? His fingers traced the ornate inscription

    “So it was real!”

    The history of a man thought fiction
    He turned his gaze to word written on the coffin lid
    They burned in his sight, light from which nothing hid
    The whispers became insistent, chattering rabidly

    “Say the spell! Repeat those words”

    Voices stabbed him rapidly
    His lips moved beyond his will, mouth formed the syllables
    A demonic possession form some scorned old ritual

    “Veni, vidi, vici, beheld il nuovo mondo
    era dispair devo farlo andare via resurrect mi questo giorno”

    He retched as dark smoke poured out of his pores
    Collapsed, smacked the floor as it descended like spores
    Drew into the tomb through cracks, vanished without a trace
    And now, heard aloud a scrape from Lamenter’s resting place
    Skeletal fingers gripped the lid, threw it far from view
    An animated horror rose to start anew
    The form seemingly lifeless except eyes which blazed with rage
    A cold voice which emanated from him

    “I’ve slain the grave!”

    The explorer shrieked in horror, scrabbled back bleeding
    Lamenter’s face twisted sadistically, seeming to lack reason

    “Thank you sir! I never thought one would be so foolish
    To not heed the warnings my enemies concluded
    Rise my servants! Heed the call of your new tomb king!”

    A thousand graves opened, Apocalypse is brewing…

    Only God knows now how to stop the undead’s ride over
    The earth, the Good die young, the Bad die older
    vs

    Quote Originally Posted by Tim Verse
    The Usual Suspects
    In....
    The Lost Psychotic Files



    Searching for files
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    Files Found.



    {File#1 Nightmare Styles }

    AHHH!!!!!!
    Look..

    Built a plastic surgeon around a fence while coloring a bright sense
    Tied my left hand to a pen and took my virginity with a poison syringe.
    Fucked my sisters along the stars whereI ate their brains out on mars
    and eluded my intentions by dominating my soul with an axe to guard
    Amputated mouths thrown on my plate as my revelations penetrated out
    A fixed adrenaline poisoned by the reverb shock given to the devil's house
    Problems drenched in devil sweat with angel piss eluding my embezzlement
    Tricking a gunslinger to royally guard this trickster..but this swordmaster
    Didn't cry Devil yet..
    Uneven looks shift stiff people to pick sides above grounds they stay off of
    A Valley of Depression locked away a fantastical glare in a priceless coffin
    Mixed batteries sending shockwaves through an allusive but subtle cavalry
    Sorority caused weeping badly..to the point where it becomes Speechless Anatomy
    A sickle cell of trouble.. Stiff and hard to endure..the pain is harder than yours
    Stronger than sure..hard to endure..but the stamina itself is partially stored
    A cremated intestine..fed to famine africans of sisters and brothers..
    One child ate a liver..to find out it was the one taken from his grandmother
    He looked upon me and started abducting me with shame
    I had no choice but to advise him "This is how america runs today"
    "We kill our families to save money and end up rich."
    "So with that said it is now time for you to be executed my fellow kid."
    I ripped his soul through his chest..
    Watched a perplexing chain reaction that calmed his fearing breath
    To mock his intuition throughout his sex..
    Thoroughly proves that the more lesser of the two was confused from death
    I didn't wanna kill that kid...he reminded me too much of my mother..
    But the real sad part about it was he was actually my little brother.


    {File # 21- Crashes in the Air}

    Fuck whoever came up with sky.....
    Oh wait that was me...
    Fuck IT!

    I endanger species with feces that entangles souls gleefully
    Eating rotten piesel infront of a ravaged mother hurt deeply
    emotions reflect off my brains that connects stress 4 days
    But fuck Stress cause I could stressfully disconnect my ways
    I eat pies with blood instead of cherries with symbolized fairies
    Swallowing an attacking phantom through my dreams hoping it scares me
    I will have sex with myself..give myself AIDS throughout a pierced virus
    Her vagina was bloodied with blisters I watched my dad eat it in pure silence
    Yeah and it was good too when I got my turn..but I never did
    So what wasn't good about it was how confusing the shit went
    And it was the exact opposite of shit..so technically what I clearly meant
    Was that I sucked my own dick.
    Nevermind, I lied in a confused rampaged that puts sodomy to wives
    And looks in the eyes of man to slap the face of deception from behind
    So fuck YOU!
    I will rip your brains and feed them to squirrels
    Before I use them as sex toys with my girl
    You need help dividing my guidance just because I am a shy kid
    Silence Bitch..
    There shall be no integrity that you shall display tonight then..
    A gun fledged to memories..yeah I caught a faceless smack
    to they undead ministry..
    Damien apparently wanted to finish me..
    And him being satan's son is clearly a bad job consequently.


    { Fatal Nocturne-File # 34}

    It awakes in the business sense of fate
    Straight off the plane a forensic scent that belittles my name
    Senseless as treachery with the utensils to defense came
    Before that flattened my brains with a singapore cane
    Earth's convenient movements
    Become allusive...once an illuminator becomes fused in
    Watch my flirtatious movements
    signaling a fatal blow insued in my most memorial allusion
    We caught swords in our chest
    while footballs and scapegoats extorted our breaths
    Gods recorded this mess
    When fallen fireballs showed no remorse to the rest
    A soothing bird..with wings tickled into a majestic mist that's blowing the kettle
    ...A calm rondo of false rights
    Defended..in the privacy of how many lives weren't settled
    Sit
    Discuss
    Agree
    Shake
    And make pleas..
    Because if you become succumbed to a fatal injury
    Chances are your afraid of me
    A Convenient cocotion...expressed openly..from various coasts
    ..omens of gold
    forfeiting a tribal sword extended into my butterfly rose...
    A Coyote disc...thrown across bloody sunsets
    Ravaged a wolf shield to my gunmen
    At gunpoint their hearts saw the savior arise..their hearts chose to plummet.

    { File # 50-I am Dallas-}

    Ethered churches defered from sickly intrigued verses
    To catapult prolific syndacates causes a mental combustion
    A teror cradle..rocked from hell to arcana to breathe deep in
    As we formely watched bestowed palaces overwhelm our chaos legions
    Two lost versions of evil walked above coastal services of blood
    As hotels surrounded our surroundings surrounding my surroundings with blood
    Served ashes in caskets and fed them to robins in baskets..
    Gave twenty five axes to my arabic crackheads to chop american asses
    Kill us.. I am Native American I will fire an arrow into your heritage
    Because these Valleys have forever sealed the keys to the temple from which I bled in..
    So Sacred
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    Overload
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    .Files Will be Terminated

    in

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    Psychotic Files Terminated
    .

    Season Six: Brandon Cee

    Quote Originally Posted by Baron P Mortuus Verse
    Little Johnny & his Friends

    Sweaty paws he claws quickly on the walls
    creeping up barricades he’s keeping on all fours
    making sure they don’t hear the fear he pounds
    deep in his heart, it screams aloud- back around
    he runs down the stairs with care not to turn back
    weary & teary- quickened breath he’s under attack
    he doesn’t look in the past where his friends laugh
    they are there & they are not- invisible but crass
    they taunt him & haunt him- he’s scared thoughtless
    he fought his friends but they caught him for lest
    he submits to their bidding- they’ll give him pain
    & pain is worse than the spanking his old father gave
    he tries to escape but he isn’t brave enough he slaves
    back up to his friends- enemies or peers- he feels lame
    A leper- not sure whether he’s the hunter or the game
    but his friends sooth his sweet tooth so he walks ahead
    under covers- his friends then creep out from under his bed

    “So what did the old man do today?”

    He beat me- I wasn’t bad but he was mad he slapped
    Mum & she slapped him back then it got bad he tapped
    the rifle & the rifle grinned its teeth- but a tooth fell out
    it was gold & red- like a tube- scary! I yelled aloud to shroud
    myself from the crowd of insults gathering to bustle & burn
    Mum wept a little more but in the end she leapt back to him
    And he put his mouth on hers & sucked out her soul- then dim
    eyes replaced the spark in my mum- made her still & numb
    “Come over here Johnny” & I went, but I wasn’t dumb
    the belt was clapping as Dad was smacking me it hurt
    Mum sat there- eyes lowered- I started crying- the tears burst

    “So he hit you again little Johnny friend”

    Why don’t you fight back & attack him while he sleeps
    but before the alarm beeps- grab him & smack him deep
    in his heirloom he received from his own father- do it good
    we’ll do the rest- we have good friends under his bed should
    he awake take your mums hand & feign a scare he’ll sigh
    And we’ll lie under his bed- waiting for the next night sky

    Johnny got the gun- the rifle in his hands he moves
    ahead & grabs screws from the shed, ready to sluice
    the duvet red- kill ‘em leave them dead- his friends
    are with him- Johnny don’t be scared- he ends
    his wait & he’s nearly there..but his Fathers awake…
    He walks to his Mum- holds her hand & speaks
    “I had a scare”…his dad sighs- his tension peaks
    …….nothing happens…his friends not there in need
    His mum whispers “Johnny go back to sleep”

    20 Years Later

    Johnny’s grown now- on his own with a wife
    And a kid, he called her Emily Rose- his life
    is better than before, his parent dead long ago
    he sure missed them- but their house now his
    he seemed a little hesitant but finally the list
    of wills were cleared and they moved in-
    His daughter was overjoyed- he toyed the thin
    hair on her head- she wanted his old room
    she got what she wanted- they slept till noon
    then came a sound- he’s older but hasn’t forgot
    his friends-“Welcome Back” & he heard shots
    of rain hitting the window pane- & his daughter
    seems in pain- he couldn’t move yet he caught her
    slaughter began as she came to his bed- holding hands
    with his wife- his wife dead- Emily lowered her head
    face pale- "I had a Scare" her voice familiar yet stale-
    she hailed blows upon blows- to conclude the tale
    Of the plan he had concocted & then he died fooled
    “Good Work little Emily friend, now kill yourself to”
    vs

    Quote Originally Posted by 'Brandon Cee Verse"
    "This little light of mine - I'm going to let it shine..."

    A muddy darkness blinds me within
    such a subtle emptiness of the night,
    as all the cleanliness in my life keeps
    me from becoming who I really am and
    I'm feeling damned when she disappears

    Ever since the negligence of any thought of excellence
    I had to use mind and soul to squander up some relevance
    I ponder my intelligence as I can't fight such a feeling
    I'm so grounded in my place even as I touch the cieling
    Light up the room...the bright lights stretch the night
    And I express with blight, I'll never confess they're right
    I'm a contestant - it may seem I play games; get filled in
    I'm very smitten with black whilst I contest with this illness
    My complex isn't a home...it's a disease that has grown
    This country is alone in a world just like me and my own
    I plea with the gnomes, they're seen with or without eyes
    Spickets will drown you in cries, but tears for fears are dry

    I'm a simple man with a simple plan -
    I plan to land on a red X and mark it
    as if I had embarked and set sail to find
    this place, but I know I didn't go to sea
    and it makes me sick that I can't see

    I have to lie to move on without hitting that winter solace
    It's not great; hearing my voice before seeing my own face
    It's demeaning with no chase, so I accept the harsh truths
    As I spark roots into the ground - dirt caught my sharp tooth
    It's dark too, I handle life as I sit in my chair with candlelight
    The afterlife that makes me happy, I want to live - after life
    But I have to write this, so I can't surrender to falsehood
    And I remember them calling me weak as I stalled good
    I would never die, so I take care of what time I have here
    As I add leers into the darkness, I feel the need for tears
    That's why I'm here, I sit in a dark tomb to scramble names
    I had no aim to outline me - until I found the candle's flame

    Who would've known, the radiance of light
    produced by the flame would resemble a way
    for me to getaway and escape for yesterday's
    fear as I became, in every way, normal? It
    brought light to my situation - and my life.

    Today, I had stumbled and fell, but then how could I recover
    When I was under the impression that I never had a mother?
    Until I hear the phone ring...*ring ring*...now I was loathing
    How I was hoping she'd be fine, but I was never all knowing
    Soon after, I'm steps from her casket, but no light's offered in
    I'm wholly unable - can't think to be hoping NOW if God exists
    Since it's an optional wish...I accept and pray without lies
    I bow my head down as the candles are lit - I SEE AN OUTLINE!
    This is a woman I downright believe is the one I miss already
    But is this true? I'm on a mission to prove that it's unsteady
    I'm not ready to let her go...she loved me and we just met
    It's all subject to change, but can't we change the subject?

    A lost man? - I was - but I'm
    stunned by the grace of God as
    I place my eyes upon her grave
    and stare at her face with this
    talent. I'm valiant...a blind man's dream.

    "...this little light of mine - I'm STILL letting it shine"
    Season Seven: Engivale

    Quote Originally Posted by Engivale Verse
    I'm a Bad Guy,
    I've had to lie when you're Honest,
    Because you're Humble and Loyal when I just love to spoil a Promise.
    I wish I could keep my word,
    ......But I need the cure ---
    For this disease where I just can't say "Please" and "Sir."
    I go off on alcoholic rants,
    "How can I give these people all a chance?
    Hate feels better to send than to extend an olive branch!"
    Peace is just a suggestion,
    But just then someone shouts out a question ---
    "If we don't get the Answers til' Heaven how does life count as a Lesson?"
    I think of Time-Honored gifts
    As my Mind ponders this,
    If I just had One to be granted what would I want to wish?
    A life long with bliss?
    Or the Right Song that Fits
    The Mood I'm in when I sit in my room and pretend I'm too Strong for this?
    No, I want to be my own Master,
    My own Leader ---
    I want the freedom to be a Bastard and lie and be a Cheater,
    Either that or you can kill me,
    Free will can be a bitch,
    But I'd rather have it than be Fated to serve the Words from your lips...



    You can't really blame Him,
    He just wants to say how his days went,
    Don't you hate when you know who the Bad Guy is but he pays the rent?
    It's this Serving mentality
    That's hurting reality,
    Unnerving my brain while I'm Observing it how I see
    I guess it is what it is,
    But I wish that the Kids
    Could picture a Crisp future without the problems we stick on the list...
    There's so many reasons
    To hand over the keys when
    You're tired of Drivin' and Decidin' on each Sin,
    Maybe I'd rather be told
    Than have to be bold,
    And make the choice Myself when Someone Else could be grabbin' a hold,
    Of all the shit that I do when
    I say, "Fuck the world and Screw them,"
    If Everybody's out for themselves who the fuck has the Glue been?
    What holds us together?
    Who told us we'd never
    Be free to choose if we don't see the News and the Weather?
    This day to day shit
    Just takes away it ---
    The way we should be living --- Each Moment --- Don't waste it....
    My mind twists and curves me in,
    My decisions Occur within,
    But at least I make them myself - Non Serviam.




    In literature, the Latin phrase non serviam was spoken by Satan as he refused to serve God. It translates into "I will not serve."
    vs

    Quote Originally Posted by SmokaJoka Verse
    I Can't Wait!!

    Denise, a singer, walked towards her mailbox building up great anticipation
    Today is the last delivery of a string of gifts that were simply amazing
    The phrase in the agreement clearly stated the last delivery will be the best
    A heaviness set in her as she approached the mailbox for her treasure chest
    It's sad.. she confessed reaching for the handle to get what's inside
    Not rushing her surprise, she slowly pulled letting in inch by inch of light
    To her delight a lone 8 x 8 package sat inside she reached in and retrieved it
    What could be in this ...she knew none of her past gifts could beat this
    She leaves it on her coffee table and calmly goes to pour herself some tea
    And comes back confronting the package thinking of past ones she received
    She reached inside her pocket and pullout out the contract she signed

    Dear Denise
    After signing this, your chance of a liftime finally begins
    We prefer and will remain anonymous throughout this process
    In signing this agreement, you agree to pay the total of $1,000.00
    And in exchange you will recieve 3 amazing gifts per year
    Or once every four months, if you do not wish.............
    .................................................. ...........................
    .................................................. .....................

    Tom, one of her friends was kind enough to tell her of this 'change of a lifetime'
    At first Denise declined, thinking it was a scam but soon Tom had changed
    He explained that his first delivery was so great that bills would never be a pain
    Tom would retire a week later, and Denise hasn't seen him for weeks
    But after his treat, Denise was very willing and hoping history would repeat
    She signed on through Tom and he said she is to not tell anyone what her gift's are
    She's obviously been able to keep her gifts quiet to make it this far
    Reminiscing on what she had gotten through the years, she sips her tea in delight
    Her first gift that arrived, to her great dislike, was an old looking dusty mic
    Fucking right.. she mumbled staring at the thing and put it back in the box
    Furious at the cost of this, she went to her recording studio to try to cool off
    Leaving the package in her car, she went inside to sing on a few tracks
    As soon as she grasped the mic stand it shorted out, she couldn't help but laugh
    At this lack of luck, she went to her car and grabbed the older microphone
    She knew anything she'd be on with this wouldn't be a platinum song
    How bad she was wrong, the mic seemed to guide her voice beautifully
    Her lyrics were moving and she didn't even have to really do anything
    Except hook the mic up and stand in front of it, it seemed to handle the rest
    And in the next few weeks she was doing shows and ran with the best
    Mariah, Beyonce, Keys? check...
    She's been an accomplished singer ever since that first package arrived
    Letting out a sigh, she looked at her Dream Maker Headset, another gift supplied
    The advanced technology in this item seemed almost alien-like
    She could add photos and videos to create a slideshow in her sleep at night
    It's one of her favorites besides the mic, but enough anticipation she's finally had it
    Reaching for the package she slowly tore off the golden wrapping
    Inside was a blue chrome box with a red button that read "Push", she was elated
    After a couple seconds debating she pushed it and her chair she sat on faded
    Placed in total darkness, she stood up quickly not having a great feeling
    About this room she's found herself in, she slams her head on the ceiling
    Crouching lower so it doesn't happen again, the room starts shaking
    Bones almost breaking as she slams every corner of this room she's placed in
    Terrified & bruised she had almost given up hope until she felt the floor slam
    She could hear horribly broken English outside, the likes of a European man
    Then quietness again, a couple minutes later a loud noise came from above her
    Screeching & creaking, a light filled the room as she kept her ears covered
    She looked up in sheer terror and slowly got up off the ground
    There...staring into the box....were two giant sets of eyes looking down
    Denise almost fainted as one of the large creatures reached in and held her
    The three fingered hand was cold and she could feel death for sure
    The broken voices filled the room again...Careful now!! don't bruise it!!
    ...Well what is it??
    It's a human!!
    ....Should we eat it now or wait to use it for dessert?
    No! you know better, we have to wait on your father to come from work!
    But I just can't believe it son, a human! ..this is a moment to appreciate
    And we only have one more delivery left and it's supposed to be the best!!
    I can't wait!

    Maybe you shouldn't have been so needy Denise
    Season Eight: ThatKidCry

    Quote Originally Posted by Brandon Cee Verse
    We Might As Well Be Strangers
    Me, Myself, and Eye

    The grounds are clear, but my heart's hounded as it amounts to fear
    Every fountain leaks an ounce of tears shedding less than a pound per year
    I found it near my soul, trespassing - escaping through gaping sores
    And maybe this life was meant to move, but I digress as I wait on shore
    As my patience wore, so did my nails...biting was more like cringing
    See, whatever eyelashes fell out, I lashed at them for absorbing wishes
    I can't ignore it, I'd die in a 3-piece suit before the casket's looked in
    Cause I'm physically fit, it's uncomfortable since my back is crooked
    Yet I'm still alive - minus previous hopes, they kept me to fill the lines
    So I could kill the time, take a step to rebuild, rewind it and feel inclined
    To unveil my mind to people, an open page project defining the book
    But these chapters are gone; hollow cliffhangers are finding me hooked
    Like there's a new edge of this being waiting to extend me a greeting
    Before I bend over backwards...and it all just ends with me bleeding
    In this recession...impulse is expression in dire need of successes
    While I'm stuck in these dire straits to get away from this depression

    I don't know your face no more...
    ...or feel your touch that I adore
    I don't know your face no more...
    ...it's just a place I'm looking for

    I would reach and grab it, but the status I keep is average and weak
    My lapis canvas is a tattered mattress...like I need practice with sleep
    Sarcasm is bleak, but there's nothing left within a savage's tongue
    What matters is old forever, but the truth is that my forever is young
    With leverage, people are as dead as waste with expensive taste
    I dine with sharks...and this food for thought leaves me left as bait
    Now to protect my fate, I'll demonstrate with a mask and a shield
    And after I wield the poisonous blade - then I start attacking at will
    But with a mask as a veil, I notice danger's just an option to me
    Obviously words are counter-productive and I'm blocking my swings
    If I'm off-target, it seems to fall on deaf ears before hitting the dirt
    And there's no place like home...if you're not above second or third
    So I'm just stressing the work as ethics press the sweat quickly
    When I get scarred, memories hide in every inch of flesh missing
    Pretend it's me, say you'll miss me; I'd die by my own plans
    I'm a grown man who's only poison resides inside this notepad

    I don't know your thoughts these days...
    ...we're strangers in an empty space
    I don't understand your heart...
    ...it's easier just to be apart

    I absorb the motion and wait as these shockwave's started growing
    I'm more of a threat to myself than any boat that's crossed the ocean
    And that's showing my blanketed lies, feeling like a snake in disguise
    But tomorrow is never promised - and neither is the day or the night
    Each mistake I can trace back, I change stats to estranged paths
    Cause I've been up or down these roads and I wish I had came back
    They say that's my downfall, personal work just to catch the ether
    But I'm a spectator who's got his sights set on a separate speaker
    Death to speeches - I'm a guest in your mind for a minute in time
    I'm just a whim of design on a new landscape with a different rhyme
    And it's just me on the dime, trying to do everything I had to do
    So that you could find me as a person...not as some other animal
    Cause I barely have a spine, it compares to that of a magazine
    See, mind and spirit? collateral for the damage you haven't seen
    That was me then, it's the same failure that's writing this message
    A split-screen, the man who was a boy that couldn't find a direction

    We might as well be strangers in another town
    We might as well be living in a another time
    We might as well
    We might as well.
    vs

    Quote Originally Posted by ThatKidCry Verse
    They're all ready, Go! that mic in my hand is already known
    to a pair of lips, so to speak.. that are following hope..
    and they call to me; gloat! because these wannabe's boast -
    but I'm a superstar here 'til I cross the street, so..
    when all of these lemons start by calling me home,
    my past will be the last to ask 'cause it already knows.

    it already..


    Knows that everyday's at the top, every brain has been lost..
    in a way that's mistaken, placed my name in a cross,
    fame is the cost.. I've tried to break it and toss -
    each flame in the garbage, yet these flames just get hot,
    so I replace them with heart.. arteries burning,
    and playing with fire's just what this part of me's yearning,
    carving and curving, putting veins to the test..
    pumping words in all directions to fill the space in my chest,
    putting placement to rest.. I've found a formula that suits me,
    and usually I'd win the race in this portion of the movie..
    poor you? please! poor me, I've forgotton the object,
    got a blotch in the content where I'm jotting the nonsense,
    I've gotten lost in the topic.. and you're obviously snoring,
    wanting content and story when these qualities bore me..
    and so the hobby is torching.. yeah, back to the flame -
    because a thought CAN'T repeat.. nah, man that's insane!
    now I'll have to be crucified so ya'll can laugh in my face,
    stuck up there like Jesus.. attackin' the blame...

    but...

    I won't latch to this waste, unless there's nothing but sorrow,
    I'll just concoct up a piece for the second coming tomorrow,
    suggesting something is borrowed, but I'll never give it back,
    I'm not a biter, just writer.. one with clever wit n' tact...
    severing the facts and cutting down the genes of writing,
    until my mind spoke to the keyboard n' found that we were fighting,
    so crying, I swore to it by lying.. "I'll never write unless it works!
    unless the way was never written!!" (as I was typing up the words)
    lighting up the curve, shooting it straight into the mitts..
    of a catcher who was reading but never claimed to give a shit,
    chewing grains until they're split, so all too often on the top is..
    the sunflower seed... a scrawled up concept of a concept,
    one way too novice for an offence, to be defeated; lost in margine,
    waiting for the wolves to come and feed upon it's carcass..
    the people reaping all the market, selling to non-adults and critics,
    those guys that read the writing but are all too often dimwits,
    to steal from the pockets they were lit with, it's a hard way to fall,
    because the writing in their pieces came from our grains of salt..


    They're all ready, Go! that mic in my hand is already known
    to a pair of lips, so to speak.. that are following hope..
    and they call to me; gloat! because these wannabe's boast -
    but I'm a superstar here 'til I cross the street, so..
    when all of these lemons start by calling me home,
    my past will be the last to ask 'cause it already knows.

    it already..


    Knows.. these kids are black and blue, dismissed by habbit -
    doomed; to be kicked and laughed at in every niche they grab at,
    this shit's a grab bag.. where on a whim, originality's lost,
    'cause anywhere in the future, individuality costs..
    spittin' now will be stopped; your hearts dipped in shredders,
    and by 2032, Souljah Boy's are written better..
    'cause poison's in the letters.. toxic waste leaks into paper,
    and soon, it'll never be original despite the ways you read it later,
    copy/paste is the remainder.. so simply cower by in fear,
    'cause we're forever clockwork lemons, getting sour by the year.
    Season Nine: Noodle/Chris Topher

    Quote Originally Posted by Blacketh Verse
    yo,


    .
    .


    It was a heated election,
    when many people felt the earth needed protection.
    Little did we know that it was freezing progression -
    They had no choice but to teach us a lesson.


    .. some were preaching prevention of cars & machines,
    cause of smoky pollutants they often release,
    even boycotting buses to walk in the streets,
    until the “green” movements, slash marketing schemes.
    While some called shenanigans, didn't hardly believe
    these 'tree huggers', green peace were really closeted queens.
    drove their H2's, smoked cubans, deposited steam,
    cast their plastic six-packs to the water in streams.
    atomic debris, bombs blasting in war zones
    mushroom clouds grow from a casualties torn clothes.
    scattered in morse code; the answers to warm holes
    appearing in the atmosphere, while cancer absorbs slow.
    we were dancing in worn soles - labeled it ‘climate change’,
    storm patterns that hadn't been made since the primal age,
    Al Gore got on the mic and they gave him the right-of-way,
    The driving force, rockin “I hate Homo-Sapiens” license plates;
    No more dependence on oil, electric rays into cyberspace,
    solar power in the day, charged by radiant microwaves.
    The raging of tidal waves were peaceful & still,
    “Go Green” was a phrase the global media drilled -
    until our heads finally filled with a feeling of guilt,
    for all of nature's creations our machinery killed.
    Our seasonal tilt shifted back to regular cycles,
    next generation really felt it best to recycle,
    the antichrist was bullshit, with respect to the bible
    but there's still a chosen few, to whom the devil was vital.
    Protects their survival, one day from ashes He rose:
    said “It's but a matter of time before humanity knows.”
    the fossil fuel families spitting gases & coal
    went bankrupt in transition 'til their factories closed.
    These titans of industry once held massive control,
    But with their power now obsolete, they vanished below ……


    “Coal makes us sick. Oil makes us sick. It's global warming. It's ruining our country. It's ruining our world.”
    - Harry Reid,
    U.S. Senate Majority Leader


    - 2099 -


    Nature prevailed before all of our eyes,
    found a cheap way to desalinate the water supply,
    Rainforest regrew, no toxins bothered the skies,
    the Green movement sent mama earth a positive vibe -
    aint let politics die, there's still corruption & greed,
    and starvation worldwide, forever suffering breeds,
    but something had eased: the wars in the middle east,
    the western world was finally afforded a little peace.
    the source of electricity had shifted dramatically,
    since the human race was no longer addicted to gasoline,
    got rid of the plastic sea, alas, too great to be true
    since nobody knew the position that our fate had assumed.
    This civilized time line was long forsaken & doomed,
    Cause no environmental movement ceases nature's pursuit.

    In a Godless world, a deal with the Devil remains unbroken.
    They came in the night -
    a silver-lined aurora cloud, bathed in aqueous light,
    humming to the melody of Satan's delight.
    Shadow being, fangs sharper than the blade of a knife,
    leading brigades of suited men, faces shaded from sight,
    in every nation alike, they marched like crashes of thunder,
    can of gas in one hand and a match in the other.
    masking their hunger for the order of mankind,
    exploding on the scene with the force of a land mine,
    outsourced for the last time - they've marketed change,
    but a few must protect the earth's penultimate phase.
    Real nature is re-generation, no pause during play,
    for a new earth to emerge, this one must start to decay.


    These former oil tycoons, the masters of war,
    once controlling the commodity most battles are for,
    dumped their product into oceans, black splashing the shore,
    one single night, a thousand years worth of damage restored.
    Smashed the panels, then went after what the panels absorbed -
    Brought revelation to the land without a galloping horse.
    Civilization has a pattern, and the pattern was torn
    once the first man resolved to stop gassing his ford.
    set in place since the second that our planet was formed,
    Mankind aint forever - But chaos is everlasting & more.
    As valleys were torched, fresh forests burned to the ground,
    the world just kept turning and turning around …
    Birds in the clouds witnessed global recharge,
    fumes blocking solar power with the glow of the stars.
    the people would awaken to the smokiest fogs,
    leaving hardly any energy for owners of cars;
    the government would panic, no one knowin the cause -
    grab blankets as the landscape takes on a frozen visage,
    They need heat as the sleet starts to snow in the Fall,
    and then it's not hard to guess who their going to call.


    Species are destined to decline when civilizing begins,
    as Nature takes it's course and starts the cycle again.
    vs

    Quote Originally Posted by Noodle Verse
    it was like yesterday, but really it was over a week
    the phone rang, I answered - I felt immobile and weak
    they told me to speak, the shock had me broken and creased
    folded at every inch as tears would roll on my cheeks
    but I remained calm, grabbed my father to stay strong
    told the story, but it only fueled my eyes like a napalm
    my heart was an a-bomb, internally wrecked
    purposely let go in order to insure me of death
    trees fall, tears fall, but the strongest alive
    never have the right of way, it's feeling wrong to survive
    follow the vibe, I get moved, but my hope doesn't
    that explains what it was like, I'm used to the old crutches
    no rushing through the surgery, no budget at all
    she's feeling like a ton of bricks before they rumble and fall
    don't wonder at all, passion wasn't hard to be seen
    I'd rather take in all her burden than be part of the league
    said it's retarded to think, but love is ending obscure
    cause arrows always find a match, yet there's never a cure
    guess it's secure, tired, but her face is sublime
    I say they had to wait to treat her cause the way that she shines
    radiating stronger than an angel, divine
    the sky wasn't that close, but there's a vacancy sign
    had to tell her "hang on" as she noted the light
    then I dreamt about perfection and I hoped it was right

    Beyond the door
    There's peace I'm sure
    And I know there'll be no more...
    Tears in Heaven
    she's a fighter like her prowess demands
    they had to crystallize the glass to find an hour of sand
    as I scoured the land, waiting with the towel in hand
    I couldn't give up on the purpose cause the tower? I am!
    devour the plans, a label was a casket's disguise
    her eyes set upon the table like a mattress of cries
    doctors surpassed it, make me an example of lies
    tell me everything's ok...how "you're glad that she's fine"

    Cause there's holes in the floor of Heaven and tears are pouring down
    That's how you know she's watching; wishing she could be here now
    And sometimes if you're lonely, just remember she can see
    Holes in the floor of Heaven and she's watching over you and me
    tell me "structures bend, but they never break"
    and if rest awaits, the bed will find me just to help me catch the weight
    stress debates with me, I can't argue the facts
    times get tougher while the play becomes as hard as I act
    part of my mask, anger led my heart to the black
    and though my body's been a temple it's still starting to crack
    been to church, never hurt, feel the test will get worse
    roots deeper than my blood...neither quenching the thirst
    deceptive - and even if it's under the will
    it's like this house just ain't a home if there's another to build
    I keep searching every floor, mind battling soul
    but then I end up in the middle as it rattles my bones
    so my skeleton is gelatin, my skin be the leather
    give me the weather, so the wind will always lead us together
    free-falling into promises, trauma reaching my sleep
    reaping the benefits? no, there's gotta be a reason I keep
    now it creeps up on me like a ghost in a shell
    one shot, but two blanks as there's devotion that tells
    emotion wells up the wisdom in a moment of hell
    cause it's atrocious and the motion's losing focus as well
    hope for the best..."yes, you're coming home with the fam"
    but that's not the case, every morning I was folding my hands
    praying God would come find her minus coroner vans
    she said "don't worry 'bout me" behind the 'podium stand'

    They say....she flew up to Heaven on the wings of angels
    By the clouds and stars and passed where no one sees
    And she walks with Jesus and her loved ones waiting
    And I know she's smiling saying..."don't worry 'bout me"
    her age denied signals, heart scraping the clouds
    a breath of fresh air, the silence isn't changing it now
    blanketed, mumbled curses are the blankest of sounds
    full of hatred - now they reach the range of the drowned
    yes, the tears are the river, whether murky or dark
    cause the crimson was the cancer that was burning the spark
    hurting the art, pictures couldn't mention her name
    I learned to talk in every essence, couldn't let it refrain
    insane, our lives make an instant change
    certain issues present themselves like a gift exchange
    resistance claims faith, but it seems to persist
    through a Stroke of genius where we all should Seize to exist
    bleeding a wish, one night in this veteran's cell
    the blades always chopped my knees between a heaven and hell
    cause I'm upset and I trembled just to settle for 'not'
    the pot called the kettle black, I called the kettle the pot
    level the notch just to keep the balance intact
    count on me to count to three before I counter-react
    bouncing me back to reality, it's morbid as fuck
    storing this love inside my core until I tore the shit up
    notice the luck with no chance, not even roulette
    said I reminded her of Jesus...and the reasons He wept
    cleaning what's left while leaving every vision a blur
    her time was up, but the world wasn't finished with her

    When the walls come tumbling down
    I don't need to look over my shoulder to see what I'm after
    Nothing ruins the memory. She was my angel, my skyscraper.
    Season Ten: Soulstice

    Quote Originally Posted by Baron P Mortuus Verse
    Welcome to the widows of night, shining lights
    spherical spectre magic, skin shows- such delights
    each curtain a robe waiting to fall; an unopened bow
    tinsel pixies tying cupid, rape fantasies bought and sold
    remember to buy your ticket lad; and quit gawping
    tell your friends of us, tell them that you saw things
    the muscular man; the tiger blooded warlock’s dance
    the ménage a trois and the audience’s salivating glance
    Welcome all to the Carnival; the place of no measure
    sure it’s trash son; but the clouds silver lined with some treasure.


    She was an angel winged strippergram
    crimson tinged lips birthing kisses for tips
    and her hips swayed- matahari
    she didn’t care for words;
    foreign tounges for the Whore of Babylon.

    Her tales were of men chasing tail; men flailing then failing
    slipping heads over heel over some whore waiting to escape them
    she shimmied to gold faced corpses; no necrophiliac
    just a flesh selling zombie; no emotions when she sells her act
    some like wet beaks others into cunnilingus
    telling the wife tales of fish & chips because the sin kinda lingers.
    Yet they sat there watching her every move, and each sway & groove
    and as she got them into the mood; the purses wept coin to approve
    I ushered well serviced folk towards another tent; another show
    after a harlot’s blow they longed to wash away the scarlet that showed
    so I took them to the jokers, the clowns
    the happy face glossed to remove another’s frowns.

    I stand at a window waiting
    as each guest passes by, not mine
    then when I see them come, I sigh.
    Remove my face to hide my pride
    Watch me slip, literally, into character
    and laugh at my oddly happy lie.
    I lie with ease, Loki a bastard afterthought.

    Banana peel crash test dummy; sucking thumb mummy telling lies
    Egyptian mascara eyes and lips puckered kissing ass on the sly;
    sure they weren’t as obvious as some; rounded hips kept bits numb
    colourful bumps glossed over the bruised lumps of yesterday's 'fun'
    the fat troll wasn’t gonna seduce out the toll so he conjured his best
    may have not been hip swaying sex but the odd slip & a horn passed the test
    unicycle oil spill, BP waiting with baited breath, shocked as he leapt
    the audience laughed in his debt, kept clapping as he left;
    then the kids got bored, they weren’t allowed ‘hoes’ but wanted to go
    I got them some action...of a different kind I suppose.


    Each limb stretched thin; he longs for battle
    yet cattle to a missing rancher;
    he chews for idle pen pushers
    carrying a burden of trickery
    they leave unimpressed
    Atlas can’t shrug.

    Tendon tussles and his melon fit to burst
    no melons just lemons that sat and cursed;
    unimpressed by strength, saying things he couldn’t ignore
    “Yeah you’re strong but I bet my Dad could lift more”
    faltered by anger, and they laughed at the oaf
    reaching the goal, spat and left him on his own- old
    kind of cold in a tunic; he wasn’t 20 anymore
    and each show meant he lifted less than before
    the sad life of an aging hero; snorting God up his nose
    the holy spirit deep within him left his mind numb and closed
    I left the sad mess there; I’d need to find a replacement
    for your entertainment, sincerely Hollywood and all in my enslavement.


    He watched them leave, knowing they would come again
    and bring their friends, to watch the wonders within
    he held them close; square eyes glues to the screen
    projecting them ideals they couldn’t ever believe in
    but enough to enter when they’re dreaming
    corrupting one at a time; he chuckled at the ease
    well oiled machine, heaven above and Eve at his knees.
    vs

    Quote Originally Posted by Soulstice Verse
    This light; it's the only thing that keeps him breathing
    On a boat getting thrashed by the deep blue Demons
    They eat through seamen - foot-long katana pearly whites
    Eyes filled with sin; as the bitter wind tangles the whirling night
    The burning light that he uses to turn and fight the leviathans
    They're necks entwining, he'll only survive by divinest whim
    This Hydra-thing takes every blow; the dragon persists
    And it's tail whips back and forth and it rattles the ship
    Blackening fists, wracking his grip; the writhing wreath of neck
    That towers over; scented with the sour meat of death
    He keeps his chest sturdy in the wake of crewmates rogue limbs
    Battling monsters with the light; against the blue grave his souls in

    It's a crude fate, we're old kids fighting to rhyme and reason
    In the night we define the treason in a dreamscape
    for our dream's sake we strive for ceilings..
    Our tiny light, our burning ship in the ink black sea of monsters
    Fighting for air, against a world we just need to conquer

    The sable robes, the hooded guises - crimson red, crooked eyelids
    Blackened features, bastard creatures, the living dead, they look in silence
    Or reverence for the eminence permeating evilly, strongly
    The herd's breathing is haunted, by ghosts of the past
    The reapers shepherd them forth - showing the flow of the path
    A pale symposium grasped by the clutches of grim shadows
    Moving to the drum of the reapers; like bunches of sick cattle
    Their fists rattle as they wave them to a field of desolate graves
    The pale horde can't recall memories or remember their names
    Only feel a center of pain - ushered forth like goats entering barns
    These poor folk.. alive.. but dead in the heart

    But not him! No he's escaped the treacherous ocean waves
    And progresses along the road he paves, slowly escaping
    A closing grave - on the island where he pursues a treasure
    Armed with his light; a might that only few can measure
    Truly weathered; slip and be left for dead in seconds
    Using his light; he equips his second weapon..
    ..A deadly blessing; he draws a pad and parchment
    For which he exchanged his classic armor
    As he leaves the shore and enters the island's forest
    He meets the wrath of archers! A suprising chorus of violent forces
    He battles harder, than ever, despite a forever of fighting
    Trying to fulfill a dream that must be measured in lightning!
    Quick hot flashes in long battles, he wars with the enemy
    Fighting with his light and his pen; supporting his destiny

    The reapers watch and laugh as the hobbled cast proceeds
    Afraid and unalive, shells of flesh with a lack of dreams
    Tragic schemes of fates fallen short, afraid to leap
    That sweat in the killing fields, under the blazing heat

    But he is not afraid to chase what is his, what is calling his name
    He fights through the soldiers, although he is crawling with pain
    Impossible strains, as he fights through the wooded paths
    Out of breath - hearing sounds of stress in each crooked gasp
    But look, at last, he has reached his mountain peak
    And he is validated by the knee-jerk sound he speaks..
    "Finally" - He begins climbing and climbing
    His hope's silently rising - his heart is beating what fate is designing

    The reapers twitch and instantly, all eight turn eastward
    A visible rage, shown by their shaking features
    The angry creatures fly off, sensing something painful to see
    Some rebel living his life, and chasing his dreams

    He's reached the top of the mountain, his passion rewarded
    Creativity forging against the violent path he was touring
    He feels he's actually soaring, through the cloudless skies
    Nothing but sun until he collides with a shrouded guise
    He feels under the gun - his drowning cries grow weaker
    His spirit fleeting, caught in the undertow of the reapers

    he can hear them whisper...

    Embrace the scythe - relax and leave this painful life
    Escape the strife and fade to night - let the reapers take you
    Even the grateful types need not even speak a thank you
    After all, Destiny calls, lie down beneath the hopeless sky
    Let your open mind heal, seal, and relax your broken spine
    Close your eyes and hear the gentle crackle of your last gasp
    And sport a smile while your soul shatters to a laugh track
    .
    .
    .
    .
    He sees the reasons to fail - a haggard man strapped for cash
    Beggin for change from the regular slaves in plastic masks
    He sees his parents shaking their heads, a woman laughing and leaving
    He hears an audience cackle.. he feels lumps trapped in his breathing
    .
    .
    ...no.
    .
    .
    .
    He draws his light, his way of knowing this is what's right
    A blazing beacon that acts like a gun in the night
    Like a motherly sprite, it guides him to his quill and paper
    As he pens words, excerpts return the thrill he savors
    He grips his saber, a blade constituted of art and passion
    A martyr acting against the eight Necropolis kings
    Reaching for his third weapon, unleashing whats bottled within

    He draws his final weapon...
    ...unaware of what it could be
    Until Now!

    He takes a peek through the looking glass
    and sees all of earth's population looking back
    Everything he's ever done, is under the scrutiny
    As he trips and bumbles and stumbles beautifully
    Through poems of mistakes and paintings of failings
    He feels a heart beating, that aches for prevailing
    He knows now - billions of eyes couldn't possibly matter
    As the wind whips and kicks up, like God calling for rapture
    The Reapers are ripped away into the bluest sky
    As he finally begins chasing his dream.. truly alive

    April of 2017

    Quote Originally Posted by Old Testament by Truth and El Villain
    My life defines normalcy - I cruise through mundane normalities
    I can remember childhood fantasies replaced with middle age reality
    Boyish dreams traded for daily routines
    White collars, ties, colorful charts, and marketing schemes
    Stream and flicker in my minds when I think of recent days
    I have to provide for a wife and children on less than decent pay
    Stress is a given, living in this way, countless butts in the ashtray
    Of my white sedan I'd slay millions to get an upperhand in this life
    My soul is scuffed and aspirations muffled in every way it seems I scuffle with strife
    The pressure bubbles beneath the surface. what is this urge which lurks and then arises each night

    Kill them all, what have they done for you except pain and stress?
    The way you sweat for their happiness but they just complain and jest.
    They say you're insane, a mess, they want you to go away depressed,
    your faith repressed with dayless rest, I know you want to escape this nest.
    Let me bless your soul, with a sacrifice of blood and bone,
    nobody leaves my son alone, so just grab that gun and go.
    You want love, not woe, so please listen to what I sow,
    I don't bluff, I bestow my gift to children who succumb and grow.
    When they're all asleep, load a couple shells and drop the sheep,
    watch their dreams fall beneath the depths of hell, a godless keep.

    Anger creeps from the depths this must be some sort of test
    How could I even think of these cold blooded acts? I'm under duress but I'm blessed
    Many would kill for a family like mine now I'm to kill my family? My mind can't be working aptly
    Tasking me with dastardly actions that are sure to render casualties
    Naturally I'm taken aback I cannot react causally
    I can't end the lives of my loved ones simply because we don't exist lavishly
    I hold on to sanity in vain like raindrops trickling down a tattered leaf
    Knowing the plummet awaits i clench my fist and say a prayer to acess the moral stakes
    Father is this one of Satan's games or the enigmatic way I'm to enter your pearly gates?

    Think of it as purifying the damned, you're carrying out my word,
    bury it in the dirt where you stand, weary as that soundless skirt.
    Your boundless worth proves to me that you're ready for a golden hearse,
    with an omen purge, you can be in heaven before the broken turns.

    I understand the task at hand it cannot be I'm a damned, sick, man
    This is grand prophecy the order of the most high whose hand
    Calls to me, following motion with demand,
    I have no recourse but to obey, knowing now that it's okay
    I won't be judged and burn eternally for this, the most wicked of foul play
    I judged my mark pondered ways to slay the woman with which I've lain
    For years and the children that resulted from our soon to be squandered love craze
    On the day of my family's death I sat for hours in a daze

    ...waiting for one final sign...
    I heard the voice say...

    The patient is wildly delusional and imagines the voice of God,
    thinks he's the angel of death, doesn't believe the choice was wrong.
    We're giving him a sedative, gonna keep him detained for 72 hours,
    I just don't understand how a man could give into such cruel desire
    Enough of the waiting the time for soul capping has come
    I aim to maim the protagonists in this blaming game
    Won only in blood, on the third night Darkness told the Sun "succumb"
    This devilish deed will be done - My loves lives sacrificed for the king of paradise
    The highest one commands you come meet your maker by tonight

    As you lay to sleep, I sit secluded, eluding this task and silently weep
    Sarah and Fred are in bed, prayers said and counting bouncing sheep
    And the love of my life, Elaine, my wife has seized to believe
    I'll make it bed, Insomnia has seized the will in me to sleep
    But slumber finds my family with ease. Little do they know of the lion in the keep
    I march in menacing, melancholy steps towards the end of my duress
    My closet yields the weapon to punish my blood's flesh
    Shotgun shells to squelch the youth - Fred had just lost his first tooth
    It's strange the glow of death in moonlight once the reapers set loose
    My wife heard the loud shots, woke with a start and rushed in to stop
    Whatever Evils dared strike our offspring
    She met me with a sorrowful wince, I pause as if to insist
    I've had nothing to do with this - my hesitation is calming
    She advances, I'm palming my 12 gauge and I've just laid my kids to rest
    I raise the shotgun waist high and aim it at my wife's chest
    Squeeze the trigger, I'm blessed to of done the lords work despite the high cost that I've paid
    My path to Heaven is paved and wrought by lives lost on that fateful date
    Quote Originally Posted by Feedback by Lyrics
    Truth started this off pretty well, I liked the opening descriptions, made for some good characterization i could really picture, it had a bit of cynicism in it that i could pick up, the internals were pretty well placed, even though the lines were getting a little lengthy for me. johnny definitely came with a pretty slick flow and kept the images rolling pretty smoothly, the read is progressing real well in this collab, i liked how cohesive its turning out in motion. both of you are blending some pretty dark imagery that i'm feeling, back to truth, man you've got some great creative word choices sparking up in your second verse, i really liked the raindrops on a tattered leaf line, back to johnny with more bars centered towards a deep self reflective state of mind before committing the dastardly sin. Truth ended with some deeper descriptions and laid out the actual event with a bit more in depth. my only criticism is that i did feel like with as long of a read this is i did see what was going to happen from the beginning, so i would just want some more creative building points in there to keep it fresh like bible quotes during the killings or demons in his head telling him what to do exactly you know, I do have to say it was a pretty menacing piece and you both did a great job keeping it going, your styles complimented. Thanks for the read!

    May of 2017

    Quote Originally Posted by '"Kung Fu Rap by Lyrics"
    A true masters training, it's never done..

    As I go through my katas, flowing like water
    Destined for momentum, the moments a motion we offer
    On the path that I have seeked, how fast the mind can dream
    Like im stabbing knives in sheaths, hand in a bag of iron beads [heeyahh]
    I show then vanish, turn scrolls to sanskrit
    My souls a mantis slowly dancing on stone and granite
    Ghost and phantoms imprisoning us physically
    Listening what wisdom speaks, coincidence and mystery
    Hit em with the willow leaf, hit em with the eagle claw
    Studied self defense in every single creatures form
    Little things were reaching for, no big beliefs in reaped reward
    Will we ever see? Guaranteed my peace is yours
    Bait switch, hate crept through flesh and scars
    The best so far training with 8 step and 7 star
    High-low when fights go, cycles that life holds
    Style is tribal, both mindful and psycho..

    A true masters training, its never done
    Nope, never done

    Passing a time frame, maxing my minds waves
    My daggers can fly with the balance of white cranes
    I float like flocks, I broke apart, ive flown alone
    Going far, the only stars ive ever known were thrown
    A level im reaching, of lessons and teachings
    A new path im taking, a true masters training- never completed
    The force of our focus, importantly potent
    No shoulders exposing openings towards your opponent
    I've spun purple, jumped hurdles, blood curdled
    I've given whats made, spending all day in small circles
    Lightning's my limits speed, I fight till my fist'll bleed
    Been fixing tight, a perfected type of intensity
    Systems retaught, relived in our thoughts
    Inner growth creating a special cultivated energy stored
    Felt in your heart, or rip it apart
    Kung Fu is life, won't chose a time to envision my art

    We live it and did from the start, so continue
    For a true masters training is never done.
    Quote Originally Posted by Feedback by Self Activate
    This kind of reminds me of a piece Sammy dropped last year titled 'Warrior' (one of my all time favorites). In any case, what you have here is really impressive, L. I kept thinking your wording might drop off, but it never did. And the few times it look like it was about to you quickly brought it back. I guess even the way you put you lines together was similar to Kung Fu. You had rhythm, motion, fluidity, style, and lyrical choreography line-after-line. You imagery was also spot on, as it was easy for me to imagine what you wrote in my mind with almost perfect clarity of vision. Another thing I really appreciated was your vocabulary. Which came across as being knowledgeable and very appropriate. Lastly, the overall atmosphere surrounding this piece seemed authentic and all-immersive. In other words, I felt like I was in the story as I read it. Dope stuff my dude. Highly enjoyable to read. Per usual.


    Well, there y'all go! Long as fuck, lots of dope pieces, hopefully this'll light a fire under your ass to start posting some bomb ass shit. If you read all of this, I'll give you five bucks from my personal wallet. No joke. Lyrics and I had a lot of fun writing this, though most of it was me looking through the RB archives for pieces which took FUCKING FOREVER (literally two hours). So hope y'all enjoyed it and look forward to seeing what y'all bring to the table ... maybe you'll earn your way into the next magazine! Good luck, good night and goodbye! *BANG!*
    Last edited by El Villain; June 12th, 2017 at 11:58 PM

  2. #2
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    Re: Open Mic Magazine (Coming Soon)

    Here you go!!!

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    Word Of Mouth Kaotic Theory's Avatar
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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    Goodshit guys.

    Wheres My $5?
    AI

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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    I spent it on pizza, sorry bro.

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    Word Of Mouth Kaotic Theory's Avatar
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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    .
    AI

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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    It's okay, you're in the mag.

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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    damn son. u did mad work getting this out. props.

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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    Bro. You have NO idea how long finding all those pieces took me haha. Thanks fam.

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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    Quote Originally Posted by El Villain View Post
    It's okay, you're in the mag.
    That wasnt me. It was an imposter
    AI

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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    Good shit homie
    Self Proclaimed...

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    Nigga tale it to Chaucer..

  11. #11
    Landed Emily's Avatar
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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    Love it when it ends with a 'Bang'

    good stuff guys.

    makes me wanna write an om.

    For the record, i dont know all the writers that were considered 'the shit' back in the day.
    Beautiful writing though, no doubt about it.
    My favourite writers at this point in time in om (meaning when I was more involved in om) are @SELF ACTIVATE and @Ctrl alt del.
    Anyone know how to @ him? I've got the spelling wrong.
    And I can't forget @HighEngineChief .
    And @_Lyrics too.
    They do it for me.
    They have a knack for flow and rhyme and are refreshing every single time.

    Epic mag. Great work here.
    Last edited by Emily; June 14th, 2017 at 08:15 AM


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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    Lyrics been around since the rarly days aswell

    - - - Updated - - -

    Early*
    AI

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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    Word, Lyrics been around a rarly long time.

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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    Really , really dope job guys. Nice work and effort.

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    Re: Open Mic Magazine 6.12.17

    Thanks esse.

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