Have you met mockery?
Down the street Around the corner
That wrap around the wet tar
Black with burnt cars of mourners.
This is where the copycat takes shape.
The white line where the story of rape is written
In Spinal fluid oozing from a cracked spine
A book ripping over her head
Aged pages bled ink over the lead
Pencils sharpened in her navel
Body unable to reach to reach fabled
Towers of Babel. As she was buried
In the shadows of skyscrapers in twilight
Her eye sight fades to reflect the night
But the tale doesn't end or begin in any frame
Of refrence your brain can reminice
Step into a drip's ripple of a dungeon
Rotten mold plagued the erroded granite
He's enchained in rust, his hair congealed atop
His eyes, a dull blue with the view
Of the soul blocked
Absence of oxygen colored his blood azure
Which leaked from his chap lips
Cracked ribs burrowed through the muscle
Exposed, where the last bits of cloth
Hung on for their rather naked existence
Back track to the present tence
Looking down upon the white line
His mind registering death but not its cause
Molded into white bars
Melt into white stars
"Dream..."
Was her death a dream
Manufactured quilt sewns at the seams
His fingers cradles his stiches
The scars that carved out his cranial case
Forgetting the face veiled in night
Forgetting the blood on his hands spelling
This women's plight
He hung himself back in his chains, in flourescent lights
Filtered black- Each her wrapped around a wrists
With his back turned ready to be whipped
Who says
"Yes I'll put you send you back to nightmares
To lull them into reality
You are a copycat of the dreams I concoct
You copy what torture makes you to be"
Unreasonably.
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=291685
http://www.rapbattles.com/forum/showthread.php?t=292095