Phenom | Kingz | Dabatos | TonySelf | Tha Q | Half Breed | Tito | 7th End | RV Radio |
12-18-05, 11:13 PM | #1 | |||
Poet's Daughter.
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GKillaz05 vs Suspicious
IP: C37B 363D
Due Dates
-------------------------------------- VERSES DUE Friday 10:00pm PACIFIC/1:00am EST VOTES DUE Sunday 9:00pm PACIFIC/12:00 Midnight EST THERE ARE NO CHECK INS Line Limit ------------------------------------- 4 lines - NO SHOWS 14 lines - MINIMUM Unlimited - MAXIMUM --------------------------------------- Voting --------------------------------------- - You must vote on 2 battles and post the links. For each vote less than 2 you fail to fulfill and post a link to, you will lose 1 vote on your own match. The league can't survive without voting, No excuses. -No payback votes -No 2nd Chance Votes -No hate votes - If your oponent no shows you are still required to vote on 1 battles. If you don't you will not recive the win. Topics! --------------------------------- http://community.rapverse.com/showthread.php?t=217491 You don't have to Agree On Topics
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mystery Is a Freak!! ITawAPuddyKat: Yeah, I guess. But I won't be a Lesbo for life. Smartone Freal: oh so u DO have plans of turnin str8 ITawAPuddyKat: Well Yes, Yes I do. Smartone Freal: ITawAPuddyKat: Lol, all smiles aren't we? Lol Smartone Freal: lol yea i cant hide what i think bout u Smartone Freal: ITawAPuddyKat: ...Oh, what DO you think about me? Lol Smartone Freal: lol sorry thats private ITawAPuddyKat: EWWWWWWW..*Sigged* |
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12-19-05, 10:24 AM | #2 | |||||||
Killin' G'z
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IP: D4FA A3B8
ok, so, we dont have to pick the same topic, or do the same amount of lines?..OK, I will get workin' on mine. Good Luck Sus.
__________________
On The Mic I'm Number One...I'm Also Number Two... ....Because Homie i'm The Shit!
TheB.E.S.T Crew
TAKE MY ADVICE FROM PEOPLE FROM CANADA nd FUCK YA LYFE
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12-20-05, 03:00 PM | #3 | |||
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IP: 28AD 5545
Check. My topic'll be....Paint the Silence.
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12-21-05, 03:27 PM | #4 | |||
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IP: 0825 899A
Paint the Silence Silence resides in the Stoic mountains of my mind, Watching over the still, dusty water. It moves swiftly, but is never seen, Wind that brushes the sides Of the slopes with white paint. When walking these mountains, Nothing will touch my ears. Except for The sound, The prickle, Of snow riding silence, Of snow riding wind, Re-enacting a rainy day ... The death of a million snowflakes. When walking these mountains, My words here are felt as bursts Of white haze ... Meaningless. I travel the peaks, And breathe its air, Extinguishing the fire Burning into my lungs, Releasing smoke Which moves away, Sharing a waltz with the wind riders. When I walk these mountains, I speak to myself. My words are drifted Away by the wind. They travel in circles, Tire, And die. They mean nothing to me, Nor to anyone else. My words are corpses now. When walking these mountains, I wait for the tremendous high tide To swallow these peaks in pure, Even water. I wait for it to drown the wind. It won't yell for help. I won't let the silence engulf me. My voice is all I have. Exposed to a shrill savage, I can't visionize how I will manage, while an acute obelisk creates an incision, exceeds small damage Scars bleak and pallid, colour stolen from the bark of my skin, the dissonance of pessimism, thins the mark of my grin Room spins and twurls within, my intellect broken of thought, a soul that I bought, was soon to be haunted with distraught Vision the absurd in speech, they paint the earth in Greek, with symbols that represent leaders, and what they teach They mistreat and seek for the weak, they suceed for the week, and the enthralled that are in the fields, bleed into the leaves And they speak for their families, the shattered trees blow through the breeze, the pain and sorrow that seeps over my cheeks flows at a swift degree Everyone of these slaves, works the sweat, though it is hard, whip marks on your spinal cord from a simple remark, let me read you this card: A Note from a former slave (Written by yours truly) He paints the vivid memories of a misplaced yesterday And the quantity of illustrated thoughts is a much better way To find God, Jesus was on the cross solemnly dying Beyond the fog, now Jesus is on the canvas drying Surviving the empty existence this young man is plagued with Selling his priceless ideas for the future for purpose is aimless His fag stays lit, he uses it to end the hell where he resides The demise he encountered a long time before it swells inside Consuming that talent, his mother fed him the ambition Father christened him a heavy burden of a family's malnutrition Sage Marcus, hardly a label for a failure, 20 years Past he started this cycle of insolence with many fears But any deer sees the headlights of Apollo coming And as it's peers get death frights, it doesn't follow running Futile existence, spending time in an placent dream Where expression of the soul is a marketable scheme Weary of success, it seems to have escaped him His question of sexuality is the sodomy that raped him Moved out at 16, and disconnected relationships of all sort While the clock's ticks seemed smiles that always fall short Lives off every story sold in frame of embony or gold A plastic encasing unrefundable memory still untold The ashes of his pheonix mingle among the cigars Far from the burning passion expanding his disregard A few months past rent's due, he has to locate to another venue Hoping his sanity is hanging securely on it's noose The slums are just the reflection of a lost generation Crackheads, gangbangers interacting in a weathered basement Ever embracing the solitary contrary to his old friends Cold winds of an autumn he spends without a soul's breath Eats away at the sparse amounts of chicken the Salvation will give him And his very prescence of individuality scares off children Dropped the paint brush to illustrate a vision he can touch Graffiti laminated walls beckon his name to fill in the cuts Disgust, years of education only magnifies why it's so clear That the system our society thrives on chides the gone So here he walks, down a savaged path to hear the water's tide As it crashes the receding line of sand, it hollers and cries Replenishing the tear's in his eyes, he wants to plunge in But the hidden sun sings his demise of demons in a dungeon Of silence, and a mind that fails to relapse images he saw When he was a child, before his brother was dead and it was his fault Before his father used his hand to violently maul Sage's face Burning his pupils to a memory that even he could never trace If only he could see the stars plummeting because of his death He sold his soul and eternity for 24 hours of vision in stead Now, he lacks the dollars to recollect his pastels and chemistry An entity of little meaning, scening his chest with an elegy Painting a morbid philosophy of flesh or what it seems to be He fills in the cuts with an ink of drying clay washed up from the river And forgets the crux of all his lying, the day out of the closet lingers Whispers lyrics the devil manifests with memories so intricately Melodies serenade thru the penalty of the given imagery His skin cut to ribbons, his enemy is his own subconscious A monster scaring him out the closet is now the lady ceasing the nonsense His mother has been looking for her first born for months on end Attends the city's primates, a jungle of rusting wires about to disconnect Listening to the voices in her head, finding the speaker of these words Turns to park at the curb, walking past the park benches and birds Disturbed, a quick gasp exhumes from her gaping mouth The shaping clouds casts a gloom on her son not making a sound Cries into the night, blood clots stop the puddle of life Sighs are not heard through the dimness located in his eyes That are open...goodnight. |
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12-21-05, 03:30 PM | #5 | |||
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IP: 0825 899A
I had to drop something quick, sorry if you don't think its good enough.
Last edited by §ÄþþØ : 12-21-05 at 03:36 PM. |
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12-22-05, 02:29 PM | #6 | |||||||
Killin' G'z
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IP: D4FA A3B8
I will drop soon, good drop.. looks like the start was on topic, the rest looks like it came from somewhere else, I am almost done mine, I will drop it tonight, or tomorrow.
__________________
On The Mic I'm Number One...I'm Also Number Two... ....Because Homie i'm The Shit!
TheB.E.S.T Crew
TAKE MY ADVICE FROM PEOPLE FROM CANADA nd FUCK YA LYFE
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12-22-05, 03:16 PM | #7 | |||
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IP: 28AD 5545
Well i fucked up my structure cuz the first part (the poetry) was a little too big when i sized it, so when i clicked "post message", i forgot i couldnt edit my post...oh well, read it anyways.
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12-23-05, 10:49 AM | #8 | |||||||
Killin' G'z
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IP: D4FA A3B8
I give you the win, you got a better chance at winnin' this then I do anyways, I hate topical, and I had mine almost done, but I left it at home. Now I am at skewl, and I am leavin' after school, so goodluck is the rest kid. Win this shit, you got a sick vocab, and I hate topicals anyways.
__________________
On The Mic I'm Number One...I'm Also Number Two... ....Because Homie i'm The Shit!
TheB.E.S.T Crew
TAKE MY ADVICE FROM PEOPLE FROM CANADA nd FUCK YA LYFE
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12-23-05, 03:25 PM | #9 | |||
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IP: 28AD 5545
Aight man its too bad you couldnt drop but, school is the first priority for me too.
Thanks for the 'good luck' and shit, peace man. |
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12-24-05, 10:47 AM | #10 | |||
Poet's Daughter.
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IP: DC74 5E73
Suspicious Wins
1-0 Due to no show
__________________
mystery Is a Freak!! ITawAPuddyKat: Yeah, I guess. But I won't be a Lesbo for life. Smartone Freal: oh so u DO have plans of turnin str8 ITawAPuddyKat: Well Yes, Yes I do. Smartone Freal: ITawAPuddyKat: Lol, all smiles aren't we? Lol Smartone Freal: lol yea i cant hide what i think bout u Smartone Freal: ITawAPuddyKat: ...Oh, what DO you think about me? Lol Smartone Freal: lol sorry thats private ITawAPuddyKat: EWWWWWWW..*Sigged* |
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