Swords and The Soul-less
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Issue
The darkness is heartless, the stars are scarless.
The martyrs are marching and the archers are flawless.
The fortress is impregnable, birthing hoards of aborted corpses.
Indefendable, lawless. Swords and the soul-less.
Infinitely endable. Pure and lone bonus, whorage at its coldest.
Loners looking into mirrors of zones of eternal loneliness.
A poetic omen, a pathetic show of old roams around generic bones.
A home for the stones and the crows and the souls.
A tome of a throne at a table of death,
Where demons moan and disown there own semen and flesh.
A land of brutality at its best, a zest for vanity,
A test of sanity. A quest for manly apathy,
A mesh of angry battered fantasies and sad souls dying happily...
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Johnny 6-Feet
...Standing alone in this field of madness while violence snaps at me
And life deteriorates rapidly, in the face of its conquest
And soul becomes polluted until its value is none, less!
And what’s next? Isolation, reduction of reproduction
Liposuction for the cranium and hollow productions
Flashing images to hypnotise, hold the masses in thrall
An electronic vampire leeching the passive and mauls
Innocence lost in a labyrinth of vicious Minotaurs
Baying for gore and amputation of its spinal cord
These are the swords wielded by the soulless, the weapons of society’s
Undercover Agent’s, sometimes flagrant with their anarchy
These metaphors carry truth hidden within their knowledge cores
And now they pour into the open when spoken from Poet’s jaws...
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djb
...Ravished by a fleeting romanticism lies chivalry’s corpse
Abandoned by the stork as another uses his sword for sport
Gentrification of a foreign nation led to blank inhabitancy
Peer pressure stressed her, so she hid the sun from her seed
Loose tee’s and baggy jeans were not a fashion statement
The benevolent menaces made murder drastically flagrant
Hate it when sacred bonds burn like southern synagogues
Deteriorating instead of fabricating power in the hands of god
Incinerated morals leave ash as the only grey matter around
As flatter bound men astound for only one night going down
Penetration becomes perpetration because men aint staying
Just slaying futures relaying another baton of burden, playing
Stabbing swords slice through wombs to create souless zombies.
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Def Poets Society
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http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/show...=1#post2903716
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=219353