Yamaguchi's Army

Posted by Erik Moshe on Friday, February 10, 2012 Under: Rhymed Verses

"Yamaguchi's Army"

Lemon hues engulf the green grass of the morning arena
His pale robes sported choleric along the spores of sepia
Lord of subpoenas who summoned students to be scorned then defeated
Sparring Spartans who had sparse in common at a martial arts convention
- with the force of Geneva, contortionist leapers, like hornets and demons
Those who were born in the region were destined to rest at the core of the legion
Subordinate teachings, never a chore for a weakling -
The type of combat that’d make Chuck Norris look like nothing more than a vegan
Just the sacred language of the fist, the samurai bushido codes
As whispers of movement happen before the old man even spoke
Water droplets sliced like an ancient Nordic sword through a sand dune
Tiny slits of cloud border a grand moon glinting above a forest of bamboo
In marches the Kid Monsoon, katanas drawn, slave of the dark magus
Butterfly knives rising, a massive black cloud, plague of the gods status
A fleeting white dust retreating from the fields that were throttled with ashes
Ichabod crane-kicks and sleepy hollows of madness, followed up backwards
Family dynasties thick with disputes ripped from the roots - bottles of acid
No longsword or hatchet, Ukitamatuki simply feels calm and empassioned
“Here & now: Impartial and rapid, we’ll figure out whose arsenal’s baddest”
Cries of sorrow entrance the feline-like men, camouflaged leopard fur
It’s not easy maintaining warrior spirit when battling nature on the regular
But I’ll be damned if I’ll let karma flow - muay thai plums, anaconda artichokes
He was meant to fight, never made the honor roll… so now he rolls with honor
His life at the edge of a blade, at the ledge of a glade balancing water bowls
Sitting upon the throne of his noble mantra, garlic clove and chakra
With the rest of his village half past dead, he was soon to be a legend of moves
Reading from sensei’s Forbidden Doctrine of Secret Techniques Never To Use
Impossible?! With the first jab thrown he could’ve sworn he was dreamin’ it all
His opponent’s wrist exploded as blood and bone spattered, bleaching the bog
Lesson learned. Basically, that’s what you get for fucking with Steven Segal.

In : Rhymed Verses 

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