Posted by Erik Moshe on Friday, February 10, 2012 Under: Rhymed Verses
Pancreas cracked in four, on all fours -
Lord of the broadsword, on an airship screening Pangea's lost tours
Bizarre islets, a crossed iris, in the land of the Concord
The survival of our species - a Good Samaritan's lost cause
Talk's cheap, but that's what I have the automatic for
Shipwreck full of Zealand rum, bullet shards by the dragon hoards
In a crag of war, with a bloodsteel fraggled core
Credit our perilous errands to the slowly perishing capricorn
Kerrigan's savage lore is what the baroness has in store
Prince Tiberias signed treaties to help clear up the sky city
His eyes leering because he saw destruction depicted in divine theory
Call it superstition, but I believe in the fourteen principles of the luminaries
Taking whatever burden of servants you can carry
(make sure your well groomed and buried)
An afternoon in the tomb of Yeti - we'll learn discipline
But trust, it has nothing to do with luck when we emerge impotent
My light burns infinite
Winthorpe worked at a bank in the wintery part of north metropolis
Disorder wandering, deported Jocelyn, corporate laundering
Tour this consciousness; more despot-ability comes with more accomplishments
Copper mollusks, toxic cottages, toppled monuments, piss poor apocalypse
Ad hominum Mount Lynchmore postulates -
New York Times columnist in a lost abyss with lots of hydrogenous loch nesses
Do not resist, come clean hurriedly, numb with the fury
Witness at the stand bears his wingspan, all seventeen shrugs from the jury
Where are the icons in classic instances? Iconoclastic milliscence
What you're reading is cryptic because even I haven't digested the concept of holographic pilgrimage
That strange feeling you felt a moment ago was your soul's quivering vertebrae
Lurks the Pontificus sermon deliverer thinning the murder rate
What cluttered artistic visions we'll germinate on a diet of turntables and myrtle grapes
Quadrants burnt in the haze, skin flakes off the finest turn of the page
Outside a church in Merlin's beret, I'll have a latte with this urban decay
A pen is dipped in cemented liquid, nastier than a pair of Godtrolls..
As the bane of men is lifted, golden daughters become paradox so -
Scarlet ocean water flows through mortar where flares will not show,
The heir of sorrow glares at ruins near the snow-capped square of Moscow,
He swears it's not so, the tribal men of Isen then breathe through the trees..
But their idol fell. & deep in the breeze they now grieve through their greaves,
The Huns spoke of young hope that drifted in the heart of the living,
Thru gunsmoke & gung-ho,
Smarter for killing rose the martyr of hissing..
'Snakebite please bartender' plus 6 of your hardiest women
The party has risen -
Post-apocolyptic ghost smog has lifted, now Sirens march with the Griffin..
The parchment is dripping,
..as the Serpentine King eyes Tom Riddles rhymebook -
From start to beginning, lidless eyes sit in his guise, Thief of Souls, no iller Timecrook.
The Ranger appears. Danger is near - whispers quiver within the dirt,
'Last of the Duneadan, still on Earth?' - rumours rise which tell of birth
Embers of vengeance swell thru remembrance, he's gotta find The Killer first.
With every single breath black eyes turn back time & glisten wet,
..suicide tears flow in pairs so eyeless creatures lay still and wept..
Hands scrape the sky like towers from citys WE built and left -
The ruins of society lie beneath in the likeness of ashes from a cigarette
The rulers home, as forked tongues, horned young & lucid tones seduce in Rome
Now the Dragon Riders fly from Mysteria high over human bones,
WARNING: Heighten hysteria!
The warriors ain't Lycan this area, even Vampires are reduced to moans..
In : Rhymed Verses