TNL - Showcase

[Jukon]

Post links to what you think your BEST work is, I've got an idea and it's brilliant.

If u don't have any topicals link your best text verse or a notable win.
If its from another site, just post the verse itself.

@YD @Emily @Spoken @Erebus @Tim... @Blanco. @Lawd . @Notti

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Up to 5 pieces per member

[Kuhn]

Try to conceptualize behind an artists eyes and perception,
Searching for himself losing direction on his road to perfection.
Long hours at night making minor corrections that irritate,
Struggling to reach peace with his piece while he nears its fate.
Liquidating all of his works unhappy with their final product,
Only to realize he's losing money in the business he cant conduct.
Looking for inspiration and hope within the eyes of his kids,
then crying cuz his mind goes to a place where he doesnt care if he dies or he lives!

Prolificly speaking he believes he's holisticly peaking,
Yet he yearns for a perfection that he's unrealisticly seeking.
See the impeccable standard he set is a bar to far in the skies,
He tries in vain to capture this paragon cloaked in demonic disguise.
Killing him slow, the feelin is so...suffocating...provoking,
Trying to rely on his instincts to complete the art he's composing.
Oceanic blues, crimson reds, purples, and yellows on his pallete,
Searching for an unseen color of beauty not finding a balance,
The facets hidden somewhere in the depths of his mind,
But with each breath he finds that perfection cannot be defined.

Forlorn tears fall from his nose, and land on his canvas,
and his eyes begin to see his sadness he had been holding..so hapless.
His heartbreaks are the reds, spread across the painting as fire,
The sun's yellows burn as bright as the new happiness he's acquired.
The purples echo all of the long nights he made it through,
Yet nothin is more beautiful as the color of the artist's blues.
His tears had merged with the colors to form the epitome of his dreams,
and constructed all of the colors and schemes into the most elegant themes.
No more long nights of hell hating his job, no more years of waiting
He learned that with passion alone, he could finally finish his paintings.

When you play with faultless standards,
You better know your role,
Because you cant express yourself,
without a piece of your soul.

[Kuhn]

Lol I had a verse about all this mental shit was going through and at the end made it out to be talking to a therapist
But nobody ever caught that it was about a rape victim taking to the rapist lmao

I write to you today my friends
To say I feel I'm at the end.
Do not cry at my demise,
I accept my fate,
I will not hide.

I've been searching for meaning, values, and verification
on the rare occasion I found any, it lacked clarification.
I'm not saying the world's evil but most of the people...
Have been at war with themselves and don't know HOW to be peaceful
Wistful looks with despair in their eyes;
Uncaring of life because their struggle just dared them to die
Yet I share in their strife. Concrete feet when I run,
No social life to speak of but why bother with one?
I've only fathered one but I've been a father to some,
Now I claim just two children of my own, my beautiful daughter and son.
I was baptized a Christian under water (and rum too)
I learned to beat my inner demons without help (from sun tzu)
standing at the precipice and spitting off the edge of it,
ignoring all the negatives till I blamed myself for negligence.
Subtle symptoms of depression; I oppressed them so previously
but my stresses kept pressing; eventually I set them free.
Suicidal side effects affecting lives with no regrets,
Humbling o live through so scars are just for show (in jest).
My conscience Burns from things I've learned
I want to help you too.
You will never see who I see in you,
Until you split yourself in two.
Physically and mentally; what's meant to be?
You can't ignore.
For I have climbed the mountain of insanity,
And became better than before.
When you're on the verge of stopping your climb up
And you're debating to wait or drop...
Just remember what I've said to you,
Because the view is greater from the top.

Goodbye

- - - Updated - - -

Demonic urges storm the skies with a heavenly essence
Death is a sentence to those without a destiny present.
Put yourself first but never put your enemy second,
because every second beckons when an entity threatens.
Lesson learned; now let the pressing questions adjourn,
a confession of depression isn't easily earned.
Frequently turned against you in the form of a heart,
It's torn apart and restored; now that's sort of an art.
More importantly it brings you back to the start,
Where life and death burn using hope as a spark.
Like a scope predisposed to puncture the occipital lobe,
The soul grows weaker with every drink and sip of the soave.
Expecting to implode when you think you're alone,
Leaving a chink in the armor that you can never atone for.
Unforgiving hopelessness, nobody can cope with this sober,
So a crushed up pill and a dollar bill helps to handle the closure.
Acceptance means little when your asking repentance
and every breath is evidence that you cant finish the sentence.
Lives full of lies without the need for disguise,
because everybody's eyes deny their demise.
Soulless body's wander growing fonder of death,
Refusing their fate, until they're somber; bereft.
Hell seems to have an odd calming effect,
Destroying our souls while embalming the rest

Yet we believe we'll never die...

we're just stalling at best.

[Tim]

Die for me Thy Lady in Red

Lay with me once more tonight, my love
For tomorrow we journey through the eternity above
As we Picture the place that the scriptures embrace
Made of Heavenly Beauty with a mixture of Grace
Where souls melt and divide for religions we've knelt beside
When we delt with pride, but couldn't describe how we felt inside
For this, my dear is true love, as most can see
So let me hold you close to me, forever like we're supposed to be
We shall shun our worth, as we have done since birth
In the mourning, they shall mourn, when we are one with the earth
Stopping us heartless, with the drop of a cartridge
Moppin carnage from a sloppy carcass chopped in the garbage
Through the gardens of darkness we embark on the danger
As a dark stranger black as the wings of the Arc Angel
Don't regret that you tried to hide forgettin' your pride
You gotta let it slide and try to set it aside
Our memories shall survive in the journals we keep
But for now, we journey deep into eternal sleep
Do not weep for your loved ones, but go be with them tonight
One day they shall see the light, and you will reunite
But you need not hold that weight, for you are my soul mate
Do not be afraid, as we venture through the Golden Gates
Now I lay me down down to sleep to die by my Baptist
As you lie in your casket, say goodbye with one last kiss
Letting Catholic Decisions carve our Epitathic visions
Like the graphic incisions caused by traffic collisions
Where the cries and repention men are tryin' to mention
Are merely signs of attention towards Divine Innervention
Intertwined with the tension to earn the hand of his throne
But I've grown as the man you've known to stand on his own
Those crippled in slaughter and dead are genuine friends of mine
But one ripple in the water, can spread untill the end of time
As eternities of friendships start when mingles are kept
And how journeys of endlessness begin with a single step
How much sorrow and fear will appear before tomorrow is near
And if I can't cry, can I borrow a tear?
So much pain, surley the World can be saved
From being placed at The Pearly Gates or Raced to an early grave
Close your eyes, my words are clever
As we rise to the chosen skies, two birds of a feather
Together forever, I confide in you
Thy lady in red tried and true
Just know I will always be beside you

[Kuhn]

Once upon a time a song of rhyme was written,
It went along the lines of modern times, love; smitten.
Boy meets girl, emotions swirl, and devastation must ensue.
End of the world when a heart breaks with the preservation of the two.

Incapable of facing the facade and the flaws,
Ignoring questions and suggestions, dodging them all.
Is it true love? Is divorce even an option?
Of course,
The coarseness of the beaten path is often left forgotten.
Yet its all for nought;
awful distactions plague and mock an authors thoughts.
He's lost in moments, where to hone it,
he must focus on the tone he sought.
A spoken truth, art; prevalent among those known as composers of plots.
But as a rose grows from the pavement; it still shows that the root will rot.
A weak base meant the speech faced criticism and backlash,
And with a cynical take on the rap he decides to trash that.
Scratch it and step back,
And let the piece lead him to where his pens at.

Back to the present,
florescent light bulbs accent her essence.
The woman he married exits after making his entrance.
Head in a book again, staring at his nook with a grin,
Developing storylines ignoring the beauty that was looking at him.
Transfixed with the talent that balanced his moods,
Unfinished poems and verses lie scattered, lacking a Muse.
He tries in vain to hide disdain for his own emotionless pieces,
Unbeknownst to him,
his idols prospered in writing about love because they never achieved it.
Lonely authors speaking of things they only believed they perceived,
While he tried to mirror they're techniques about the one thing he received.
Monetary values were worthless to the men seeking more,
Yet to the man that chased adoration, the world lay ignored.

His wife of 20 years feeling like the authors that her husband loved,
And in a moment of self revelation she sighed as she shrugged.
She picked up a pencil and paper off the table he wrote at,
And with her own hopeless feeling she scribbled a note back.
"To the man that I married, and bore children for,
I write to say I love you, and I'll continue forever more.
You showed me the meaning of life, happiness undiluted,
But these past few years you've ignored me and our loves became polluted..."
She stopped there, weeping, trying to hold her composure,
But the lackluster effort faded as she gave up on closure.
Suddenly her husband walked in and noticed her tears,
Walked over to comfort her kissed on her ears.
He read what was written and became smitten again,
Realizing what he's been missing, had also been missing him.
The pain in a poem was more powerful than rhymes,
Love conquers all, but not all the time.
From that day forward he appreciated his wife,
For not only loving him but giving his writing new life.
He learned after years of failure that true agony can't be mirrored,
Sorrow is something only unhappy people can see...clearer.
He finished his heartfelt poems and ended the chapter,
While kissing his wife he wrote
"...and they lived happily ever after."
__________________

[Kuhn]

i was nervous then because i didnt understand the purpose of a persons sins.
I felt worthless writing with a wordless pen,
reliving the deaths of all your former friends.
You hold your hands to your eyes and pretend that they're dry,
exposing your life story but it ends with a lie.
You say that you're fine and tell me it made you strong,
but if you were strong you wouldnt be crying while writing this song.
Im not righting wrongs im just accepting who i am,
the reflection in the mirror the only man that gave a damn.
I've seen you at your lowest and contemplating suicide,
eyes red and crying screaming "who am i!?"
i stayed all night with you till the light hit you and you woke up,
ignoring your tear stained cheeks pretending i forgot what we had spoken of.
A broken love heartbreak surpressed by many hours of toakin up,
until the pain wasnt as painful and decided we had smoked enough.
I've seen you standing, staring in a daze
watching memories of your loved ones deaths replayed,
i could never hold you and tell you that its okay,
but i've still been with you every step of the way.
You've smeared your tears and blood on me but i have always seen you clearer,
because i love you for who you are.
Sincerely
Your Mirror

[Kuhn]

Okay I'm done after this one lol


A womans looks alone does not determine whether she's beautiful or not
it's like a mathematical calculation between determination
plus a caring nature, divided by the amount of times
she has been hurt by guys.
The lies she's told plus the reason the lies were created
multiplied by the number of times she's told the truth
in a meaningful conversation.
The words she's spoken subtracting the promises broken
add them together along with the reasons she broke them.
Of course there's always situations that you're unable to come to a conclusion
yes.
And this is where it turns into and algebreic equation
where your stuck trying to find the meaning and value of an ex.
Even when you try to figure x's out
the next route is to determine whether or not the x's and why's equal the outcome
thats already been given.
So you can try to use this formula with precision
but unless you understand these calculations you'll never be able to live them.
The sad part is,
most women dont know their own worth
it is something they judge by other ppl's assumptions and theorys
so i wish every woman could hear me when i say
dont ever devalue yourself
because even tho i had eye surgery i can still see
that you are fucking beautiful...
Clearly.

[Tim]

I gotta girl named desi looking better then my dreams
When I first met her said, “I gotta get her in my jeans”
See, I bought her off a pimp in the back of the streets
Saying “I need a hot sweetie who can pack a lot of heatie”
Charged me less cheddar, cause she wasn’t acting better
Had a couple screws loose I helped her put her back together
Get her out of the road in the cold of the winter
Take her home and clean her out,
cause I don’t know what’s been in her
Though I spend a little doe, she gives me plenty of bucks
So I Lubricate her hole and the I’m ready to bust
But pumping aint our main objective
We both aim for things and see with the same perspective
And I always give her free tips
to get a hold of her
And she helps me get a grip
She has a blast with me, and if tragedy has to be
Ill handle beef, and shell happily clap for me
She was so cute, but she was like, “shoot”
Cause know one notices her when I’m wearing my suite
And if I pull something on her she gets angry and sore
And says, “baby, baby, baby come bang me some more”
She’s from a foreign country that’s a cousin of our neighbors
Gotta hide her from the cops, cause she doesn’t got her papers
I put alcohol in her , feeling proud and devoted
She’s always taking shots and gets loud when she’s loaded
She gives me the ability to be chill and stealing free
Knowing damn well shell be willing to kill for me
She screams, but im at leisure
She’s steamy when I squeeze her
So for her own safety im keeping her locked
Putting something in her when she needs to be cocked
She likes to cling to my waist, when she comes on a date
And I don’t even care if she stares at someone I hate
One day she stopped talking for something or other
She got herself in a jam she knew I wanted to dump her
I did it though I know getting rid of hers awful
I aint bitter though I left her for a prettier model
I was so safe , cause she felt so right
I said, “baby, baby, baby you brighten my night”
But when I think about her, the sun don’t shine
I wish that i could bang her just one more time

[Tim]

Sinner:
Father Forgive me for I have sinned
I try to think about how different it might have been
If I'd have spent a little time with the Guy
To try to find why but I was blind in these eyes that Cry


Priest:
Don't disquise the lie you're hiding from me my son
The Lord loves you, he died because He's the One
Who sees what's done, he's happy with Passion
To make Blasphemy absent if you ask him, so tell me exactlly what happened


Sinner:
It was actually back when I was only a child
I hadn't been to home in a while
Go and open my file, I was in the Hospital often
The Cops thought my Pops was a possible option
My Father was watchin me, strong it wasn't him
It was someone I probably was wrong for trustin then
I must've been just ten I had to bandage my knee
It was damaged and bleeding, he took advantage of me


Priest:
Did you manage to see, the person who did this
Or know his purpose of interest?


Sinner:
That's my personal buisness!
I need merciful wisdoms, that's why I came to Confession
So tame me with blessin' from my anger aggression
I was aimin my Wesson then considered it further


Priest:
Son, what was the sin you commited? -


Sinner:
-Murder!

I spit the burner and unloaded the clip
His head exploaded and ripped till it was opened and dripped
It was grosser then shit but I wanted him more dead
I poured led through the front of his fore head
And all the gore bled on the floor red


Priest:
Son, you know well you'll go to Hell, and jail's scary
You can't expect forgiveness by sayin Hail Mary
Sin prevail's rarely from the Culprit with in
And killin is the ultimate sin


Sinner:
YOU'RE FUCKING FULL OF SHIT FRIEND! HOW THE FUCK CAN IT BE WORSE THEN
TREATING A LITTLE BOY LIKE HE WASN'T A PERSON?
HE DOSEN'T DESERVE IT? IS THAT WHAT YOU'RE TRYIN TO SAY?
YOU SEE A KID CRY AND PRAY WISHING HE COULD FLY A WAY
WISHING HE DIED THAT DAY? HE USED TO BE SAFE
NOW HE'S GETTING ABUSED AND RAPED, LOOSIN HIS FAITH
HE'S BRUISED AND HE'S CHAIFED, CRYIN, BLEEDING AND HURT
BUT IF HE SPEAKS A WORD THE PERV WILL PUT HIM DEEP IN THE DIRT
DON'T BELIEVE WHAT YOU HEARD! SOME THINGS ARE MUCH WORSE
THEN GIVIN A FUCKING PERVERT WHAT HE DESERVED


Priest:
Have police gotten word? Are they askin away?


Sinner:
I can't actually say, this just happened to day


Priest:
Well, after you pray, here's what I want you to do
Let the Police decide the judgement for you
Serve your punishment through, then if you ever parole
Then give Jesus your heart, and give Heaven your soul
Forever your goal is just to praise him alone
Then adopt or have a baby you can raise on your own
Dedicate your life to just exist as a Dad
Give him everything you ever wish that you had
Teach him about Jesus, make him believe him
You took a life, you gotta give a life to break-even


Sinner:
That's all I gotta do to be clear from my sin?


Priest:
Yeah basically just stay and be sincere to your Kin


Sinner:
I hear you my friend, the game's intimidation
I seen people walk for this same situation
Like thier brain isint facin the resultin' consequence
Assumin every Human is full of Common Sense
So I owe you compliments, I aint afraid in the least
And by the way, he was a Priest


Preist:
Whoa wait!
What's the name of the deceased, are they findin it out?
What time did you kill him?


Sinner:
What time-is-it-now?


BANG! BANG!


Sinner:
You Fuckin Child Molester

[Spoken]

Ill get to this.. shit load I gotta search

[Erebus]

Just gonna post a few I like from my archives thread.










17/10/10 - 18 Years Old
Shrooms
Me and my girlfriend Veronica, I’m very much in love with her,
We went out on a trip, going on the mushroom hunt,
Our aim and goal, was to eventually be tripping and all,
Then we found it, a large mushroom with a black nipple on top,
I don’t care to boil with tea; I just want it into me…
. . .
Astonishingly, I assume the accolades of aborigines,
Woefully, I wonder into the wild excitedly,
Childlike, I crave inside to start climbing trees,
I imagine I fly high and my weight is nothing,
The tree holding me back, a branch escapes its clutches,
Looking up, I gaze as the moonlight dilutes to dark,
The stick as my wand, I manually move the stars,
I point it high, holding on with sturdy hands,
As I remember my counterpart, I return to camp,
Inside, I see rainbows of colour, dripping like sinks,
Afraid and fearing, I start swinging the stick,
As it collides, I hear it shatter and kill,
Many shades of red begin to splatter and spill,
The cracks and crunches echo in my ear,
Until the haze disperses and disappears.
. . .
My head fixed back on my shoulders, on top of my back,
Tightly, I feel that my hand is clenching, a log in my grasp,
I stand shocked and disturbed, I’m now awfully sorry,
Shadowing over the bloody mess of Veronica’s body.







2011 - 19 Years Old
When The Cotton Fields Sleep...
When the cotton fields sleep, the music starts,
We rest, relax and tend to our bullwhip scars,
An orange glow beneath the mantle is lifting the dark,
Fire logs crackle, pop and split in the hearth,
When the sun rests it's head, dusk has brung stars standing above,
Father and son handing heart beats to the African drum,
Embers emerge from the flames and dance in the rhythm,
We sit within the song and graciously gather in singing,
Spirit shakes hands with the moon, bringing with it sadness,
The wisdomous elderly, focus on weaving wicker baskets,
When the cotton fields sleep, we become joyous people,
Huddled and working together to wave off mosquitoes,
Shirts worn and torn so the wind blows on our backs,
Callused hands preparing left overs and scraps,
Our bosses believe their rejections are enough to eat,
Under our watch, even the toughest meat becomes a feast,
Cutlery made of flesh, and the finest delph, made out of plastic,
We become a human cocoon to this make-believe banquet,
Clustered together, sneaking up to the snack like a scuttle of crabs,
I can't calculate if the bread is stale, or it is just from my palms,
When the cotton fields sleep, the light shines in the dark,
It beams straight through our chests and right in our hearts,
We keep getting by regardless, although we struggle to manage it,
We have our health and each other, one lump sum of happiness,
Share it out between us, we cut it in fractions,
Keeping our eyes opened, eventually they'll adjust to the blackness,
The children surround us, we grip our emotion, for all of their sake,
Gleeful smiles put up a wall to protect inequality's pain,
We must power on, live our lives, remain keeping faith,
Cause when the cotton fields sleep, we don't feel like slaves.







2012 - 20 Years Old
Angel
I’m a figure skater; it’s the Olympic final,
My goal is to go out and try to lift the title,
With gold on my mind, there is no mistaking,
The source of my life and my motivation,
My mother above was the best to me,
My mother I love, a majestic queen,
When she put on her skates, heaven opened it’s gates,
A flood of beauty came out and on the ice it escaped,
When she was cleaning the house, or when she’s cooking the dinner,
It was the ice on her mind, and she could do it forever,
When I was 8 years old, she put my mittens on,
Took my hand in hers, and we went out to the pond,
She handed me skates that she’s had since eleven,
In magic marker on the side, the word ‘Angel’ was written,
Like a newborn baby, I tried to stand on my feet,
She says I’m a natural, I know she’s lying to me,
A tear escapes from her eye and it was stuck on her face,
So happy she cried, her two loves in one place,
When I left the rink to where the land was dry,
I turned back to her and something caught my eye,
I stop for a second and see a crack in the ice,
But before I could say, it was snatching her life,
It happened so fast, I was frozen stiff,
But in the call of duty, I awoke from it,
I grabbed her hand; I wasn’t letting it go,
But the last image I saw, was her sinking below,
I can’t remember the rest, we’re ten years away,
But in dedication to her, I am here today.
I awake to crowd, which all look at my face,
Balero’s the sound and now I’m shook from my daze,
The procession softly taps; my heart follows in line,
I capture a deep breath, and now I know it’s my time,
The spotlight is dropped and I take my position,
They comment on my skates and their ‘Angel’ inscription,
I perform for my life; this is no time for regrets,
I’m a fragile being, that’s unrivalled in strength,
Move my skates and I glide, across the face of the ice,
With grace on my side, it’s the most amazing of sights,
I’ve worked so hard for this; I’ve practised for seasons,
But now that I’m here, it’s just a natural feeling,
As I close the show with a butterfly spin,
I feel my mother above drop her love on the rink,
The music quiets, I put my head in my arms,
The crowd stands on it’s feet, I see the tens on the cards,
A break out of emotion, the moment weakens my knees,
It seems so long ago, now I’m achieving my dream,
I look up at the sky, I will thank her for life,
Look down on floor and see her hand on the ice.





05/08/12 - 20 Years Old
What If...
1918, under the Hungarian skies,
When patrol was captured by the radio's cries,
A determined disc jockey was losing his voice,
He yelled "The War Is Over", it was news to rejoice,
There was always a doubt that we would hear it this morning,
We fired shots in the air with no need for a warning,
Walked straight to the coast to celebrate the treaty,
Hoping it was the last time that we would storm the beaches,
It was a small lagoon which boasted golden sands,
The party began with no one holding back,
We all took turns of being thrown in the sea,
Enjoying shots of Pálinka and the local cuisine,
We pulled seaweed from our boots, pouring out the water as well,
As we sat by a small bar which lay on top of the shells,
All of a sudden, my heart descended and sinked,
When I looked at the woman who was serving us drinks.

Why do I think this,
Happily married but still,
Wondering what if.

At first sight, I'd never felt this affection,
I was transcended at seeing her sun kissed complexion,
I was overcame and I could hardly take it,
I was really nervous and my pulse was racing,
When I made the request, she started sitting with us,
But a platoon of drunken troops was set to kick up a fuss,
So we strolled to the shore, the sun rested it's head,
We just talked for hours, till it was beckoned again,
Her eyes reflected to me a deep blue of oceans,
And she unlocked my heart to a new emotion,
With the war over, I was now free to love,
We connected on levels only seen to us,
For the rest of my stay, we spent every second together,
And I swore that she was a woman that I'd remember forever,
If I could, I'd have refused to leave,
But I returned to America, and wonder what could have been.

Why do I think this,
Happily married but still,
Wondering what if.

In a small apartment, we could have layed together,
We could have bought the bar and then we'd stay forever,
I could have proposed and delightfully she'd reply,
And then we'd get married together under a star lit sky,
We could've made the decision and then try for a while,
And eventually my wife would have bore me a child,
With the sallow skin of their mum they'd be credited,
But I'd make a point to teach them of their heritage,
We'd watch them grow up as we would grow old,
Reading their book as the story unfolds,
For the rest of my time there's no wars that I fight,
Just me you and our child moving forward in life,
When one of our lives is beginning to end,
The other would wait to be together again,
On a death bed one would rest as our hands would clasp,
A final smile would grow, and then we pass.

Why do I think this,
Happily married but still,
Wondering what if.

But since then, I've met my wife, it's not like I'm not happy,
I've loved every minute with her, it's been many years since we got married,
I was 34 when we met, I was far from a young kid,
We dated for months and I could tell that we just clicked,
I'm 68 now, Hungary was a lifetime ago,
But I can't help but think how that life would go,
Would it be happy? Owning the bar with my wife?
Or would it all have fallen apart in a night?
I'm not sure, but one thing is for certain,
She was my first love and it's always serving a purpose,
I have no idea how things turned out or if she met another,
But there's a place in my heart and I will always love her,
I swore to always remember, and that was truly honest,
And I've passed through the years and still kept that promise,
I'm happily married and loving it, in a life that's long lived,
But I can't stop from wondering, and thinking of 'What if...'.






26/06/14 - 22 Years Old
One Phonecall
Grab my keys, wallet and leave as I walk to the store,
My phone rings on the side table as I walk from the door,
Will I turn back, pick up or stay ignoring the call?
I guess they’ll leave a message if it’s important at all,
The air, thick, weighing down on breathless lungs,
As if under command from the relentless sun,
The barking of neighbours dogs drones over my side,
The same reason that last night, I was awoken at five,
As bags hang from the eyes, the sun beats on my back,
Energy bleeding and sapped and I feel I’ll collapse,
I stop and sit on a wall and then I rest and sulk,
Remembering my incoming test results,
Insist I’m indifferent if cancer’s existent,
Indignant, convinced that the mole is malignant,
But fuck it, who cares, I’m barely living my life,
Despite being given the time I’ve no children or wife,
If it’s bad news; it’s bad news and that’s just the sad truth,
It’s past due and I knew that my life has passed through,
Until I get the results, I’ll just grow my own suspicions,
Actually, that’s probably the reason my phone was ringing.
---
Grab my keys, wallet and leave as I walk to the store,
My phone rings on the side table as I walk from the door,
Will I turn back, pick up or stay ignoring the call?
Actually it could be my doctor and then I’ll know the resolve,
Get the phone and said “Hello” to acknowledge that I’d answered,
He told me “I’m very sorry, you’ve tested positive for cancer”,
Speechless, the words were gone, my vocals removed,
“Now I know that it’s true, what do you suppose that I do?”
“All I can say; enjoy the time that you’ve got,
Breath in the fresh air, and live life to it’s all”,
Putting down my phone and wanting to leave,
I left the house and just wandered the streets,
Beams ricochet from the sky and glow on the floor,
The sun smiles on things I’ve never noticed before,
The late night barking dogs, the bane of my existence,
I’d always say I was a victim and that my neighbours didn’t listen,
I didn’t care about anything but trying to mute it,
But what’s barking from a dog living life to the fullest?
I might not have the time left for kids or marriage,
But enjoying my last days? Yeah, I think I’ll manage.









02/07/14 - 22 Years Old
The Broken Chains of Fennesz
Minutes bled into hours until days had passed
Since I suddenly slipped from enslavement's grasp
The markings of shackles disappear from my vision
Their crimson tint fades with my reason for living
Freedom... the idle wish of a dreaming captive
We wonder if one day we'd even have it
I never figured I'd ever have to think to plan it
Never thought of the gameplan if my wish was granted
Can you return to water a freed ship from a bottle?
Now eating in soup kitchens and sleeping in hostels
Where fleas and disease sleep under the sheets
Such a colourless contrast for something that's free
Plates suffocated in slop, the most dreary of meals
Next to fresh food consumed with Valyrian steel
But still I'd survive the slip in the standard I've lived
Had I regained my chance to interact with the kids
I get teary eyed when reminiscing upon what I leave behind
I would teach their eager minds to read and write
Their eyes viewed my presence as a fountain of wisdom
Not an ex-slave that's been reduced down to a victim
Their books wrapped in silk and each sentence I quote
Surpassing the worth and expense of my robes
Their value however... is much greater than that
When they acknowledge my knowledge I gain a way and a path
I feel more like an equal when I focus on the lessons
And yet with no goods to my name, I'm still holding some possessions
But now? Nothing, it's all been taken apart
My cabinets as empty as the space in my heart
Despite being owned and whipped like someone's mutt
I had the love that comes with unencumbered trust
A hound's mission and goal is most certainly service
Yet as man's best friend it is serving it's purpose
So if freedom is choice then I'll seal my fate
Because freedom for me... is to be a slave





12/09/15 - 23 Years Old
Why Do I Write Topicals?
Why I’d write a topical? That’s something that I’d ought to know,
I guess it’s cause the rapping acumen I had was nominal,
The monotonoish audios that I released were comical,
Inaudible, I write because my Scottish voice was horrible,
I say that to myself, but do I want to rock the boat?
Scared of what I’ll find if I topple all the dominoes?
I read between intentions to reveal a different question;
Are we deceitful when we mention that it’s freedom of expression?
Does it release from me some tension? A meagre way of venting?
A peaceful deed preventing of the features of depression?
Or is it preaching and presenting of a preconceived impression?
The notion that my deep emotions teaches you a lesson?
The insight that inside I know the rights and wrongs,
And when I rhyme along I somehow think that I belong?
Or is it less than that? Was it actually my fate?
When I rattle on the cage I guess my battle skills had aged,
When the day that this was rendered, maybe I surrendered?
Was I imagining some assonance would make me a contender?
Maybe I had reckoned, the day my name had lessened,
Cause I listened in my English class I’d make it as a legend?
I can sort of say it sort of made me want to walk away,
But being honest Abe I wanna make a Hall of Fame,
We treat it like these verses will, become a living journal filled,
We act like it’s external spills of words we feel are personal,
We say it’s why we rap and write but if we could believe that,
Would we join some battle sites and ask of them some feedback?
I guess we’ve all got reasons, of why a person wants to write,
A labyrinth of answers and I guess there is no wrong and right,
Since I’ve had it on my mind the thoughts I had have modified,
This alone has kept me going……I guess it keeps me occupied.

[Jukon]

Good shit so far