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| Phenom | Kingz | Dabatos | TonySelf | Tha Q | Half Breed | Tito | 7th End | RV Radio  |
12-10-04, 08:56 PM
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#1
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God is a Fable.
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A Crow Left of the Murder
IP:
this is from my battle on 411
for all those cats that like the vocab here is a piece for you when the fluttery flurry of feathers settled, the existentialists looked disheveled. the blustery breeze wilted everything besides the lonely lilac's petals ripping through metal, tearing through fog, a crow died at dawn through mental interaction, we heard God's divinely harmonous song an angel faintly hummed along, but somehow forgot her beat and so a crow fell from the sky, pummeling into the concrete gaia gazed unbearably towards her streets, and graciously lended a tear but she shut her eyes and turned her ears; a mechanical axis with broken gears some thought she was harsh, that she was forgetful of her children but i called out, "you're the forgetful ones...the forests are the pilgrims" i heard a caw, and turned to my left, just in time to see the death and for the dead marching crows, i let out a conclusive breath whispered the elegy in lament, and reminisced of ignorant days paid the price to know the ropes, still stuck in the stone(d) age i felt for the crow deep down in my heart, as it tried to deface this faceless art.... watching it all come together was almost as beautiful as watching it all fall apart A piece for all you emotional type folks A C.R.O.W. Left of the Murder. Lifes chase let me misplace all that mattered. A disgrace to be replaced by the pieces I've shattered. Placing perfection across the path that was meant. Facing the direction away from the pockets that were spent. Dollar signs realigned my mind towards the greeds we're born with. Temporarily confined my lines until I designed the dream I once missed. Pushed the pens ink deep, staining the surface beneath. Once words and suicide meet the pain and worthless will drink. I grabbed the cup of death and swallowed life untill nothing left. Felt trapped and threw-up my chest, followed lights towards the exit. Met those above, those in charge of drugs and love. Slept after being drunk and shared stories with a heroic monk. I was told the steps I should've stepped Showed the folds I regret and able to hold those I left. A night of smiles, halos, innocence and happiness. Tought to write to as a child with brillance and intelligence. Only to awake to tears and a cramping stomach for food Wish I could take fears and watch them plummit from the moon. That nite when the blackbird lured my heart towards suicide. No sight, only a burning hurt that turned into the quotes I write. An evening of death, lived and found how to walk proper. Forget being upset, begin to pronounce how I prosper. A Crow, was left to show of the murder I swallowed Christ's Rising Over Words came from the evening I followed.. Last edited by led poetic : 12-14-04 at 01:42 AM. |
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