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Fintan's Writing
- Thread starter Fintan
- Start date
OP
OP
Fintan
Meteorite
- Joined
- Sep 27, 2011
My First Spoken Word:This is obviously the first spoken word I ever wrote, and I wrote it quite some time ago, so if you're going to criticize this piece, please keep that in mind.
Karma
(As --+Hahvoc_Requiem+-- harshly pointed out, I did include a line from the Hollywood Undead song, "City")
Karma
With bloodshot eyes, I spit this lyrical acid, dissolving your preconceived misconceptions.
You think the lighting comes before the thunder, but what really comes first is under.
No, not the skin but the dirt. Underneath each city, holding up each happy home is Death.
Rotting corpses compose the foundation of our civilization.
And in this sick existance, murder is an escape from the monotonous day-to-day sludge.
This rainbow-black toxic spewing sludge.
Now slaughter has a new justification.
We once killed for ideals, rights, and religion, sending minion after minion to their demise.
But now we kill for this liquid gold, which fuels the groaning beasts, filled not with soft flesh, but shooting pistons and grinding gears.
And this demon kills the very soil we stand upon.
What once gave us life is now addicted to death.
We are all in a race to see who can kill themselves first, and guess who is winning.
Our democracy of hypocrisy is a prime example of the underlying problem.
This "beautiful" country of ours is like a festering boil and soon its going to pop.
And I'll be the one holding the needle.
So, when seemingly harmless mountains spew flames,
when the earth quivers then jolts,
opening a vast cavern which oozes forth the new Black Plague,
when mile-high walls of water crush entire cities,
when twisting winds juggle homes,
when you watch the sky falling in Lambo sized chunks,
I will not die in the night, but in the light of the sun with the ashes of this world in my lungs.
And out of my hoarse and dry throat,
a chipped and bleeding smile spread across my lips,
my last word uttered shall be "karma".
You think the lighting comes before the thunder, but what really comes first is under.
No, not the skin but the dirt. Underneath each city, holding up each happy home is Death.
Rotting corpses compose the foundation of our civilization.
And in this sick existance, murder is an escape from the monotonous day-to-day sludge.
This rainbow-black toxic spewing sludge.
Now slaughter has a new justification.
We once killed for ideals, rights, and religion, sending minion after minion to their demise.
But now we kill for this liquid gold, which fuels the groaning beasts, filled not with soft flesh, but shooting pistons and grinding gears.
And this demon kills the very soil we stand upon.
What once gave us life is now addicted to death.
We are all in a race to see who can kill themselves first, and guess who is winning.
Our democracy of hypocrisy is a prime example of the underlying problem.
This "beautiful" country of ours is like a festering boil and soon its going to pop.
And I'll be the one holding the needle.
So, when seemingly harmless mountains spew flames,
when the earth quivers then jolts,
opening a vast cavern which oozes forth the new Black Plague,
when mile-high walls of water crush entire cities,
when twisting winds juggle homes,
when you watch the sky falling in Lambo sized chunks,
I will not die in the night, but in the light of the sun with the ashes of this world in my lungs.
And out of my hoarse and dry throat,
a chipped and bleeding smile spread across my lips,
my last word uttered shall be "karma".
(As --+Hahvoc_Requiem+-- harshly pointed out, I did include a line from the Hollywood Undead song, "City")