[Season One Champ] Week 19 - Week 21 .:Pain:.(2nd reign)

Discussion in 'RSTL Archives' started by Tacky Jones, Jan 11, 2011.

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  1. Tacky Jones

    Tacky Jones www.TaCsmassivecock.gov

    Feb 25, 2008
    Week 19 vs Nu’maaN

    The House Inside My head
    I've been traversing this pot holed lost soul path,
    I think I'll have the same luck those old fossils had,
    I walk with a condom wrapped,
    Round my gonzo past, to make sure it's safe to fuck with that,
    Occasionally, I look in the mirror and see,
    Two deep dark hazel doors open and peer into me,
    And when it appears that I'm weak,
    I disapear for the week, twisted, sippin' beers in defeat,
    But when that mirror reappears, I feel hopeless,
    Cuz no one dares enter those doors that are always open...

    It's cold, it's so sick inside that house,
    But most don't even enter to ever find that out,
    Being a gentleman, I hold the door for my date,
    But they get turned away by the clutter that adorns my brain,
    Not to mention the second hand smoke is intolerable,
    And they hafta leave if they wanna powder their nose,
    They see lust, overloaded, and blood by the ocean,
    Love that was broken by slow, clumsy emotions,
    A brain full of momentos, shame, and a pencil,
    The rest of the place is plagued with wasted potential,
    Lacerations and cuts, slashed by hatred and love,
    Scar tissue a large issue, like my fascination with drugs,
    The entire structure seems it would break with a breeze,
    The house itself is strong, the foundation is weak,
    It's grip with the ground slips, it's easy to lose,
    The day it doesn't slip is the day I'm cleanin' my room,
    So I'll make another trip through these thunderin' storms,
    Fuck this shit, I'll make my way to somebody elses door,
    I know I'll be accepted, just like I usually am,
    They'll ask me to help, say they could use another hand,
    And I'll arrange, sweep, and clean, with a grin on my face,
    Revive the plants of love that have withered in shame,
    I'll eat the plate of dinner that they'll offer to me,
    Call it delicious, even though it's prolly awful to me,
    As I leave, I'll wave, with a grin on my face,
    Look back at their plants as they wither in shame,
    It'll be another day, walking home, feet feelin' weak,
    As I sprint through the cold, and leap through the weeds,
    And I'll arrive, realize it's finally to easy to see,
    That my doors are always open, even for me...​

    Pain wins 1-0
  2. Tacky Jones

    Tacky Jones www.TaCsmassivecock.gov

    Feb 25, 2008
    Week 20 vs Lucifa

    Sorry, didn't have time to finish the piece the way I wanted, goin' campin', pz motha fuckas...

    He's seen every kind of person on the job that he works,
    He's known every kind of pain that could possibly hurt,
    He's a soldier for the souls, a warrior of spirits,
    He never looks back, he keeps soaring through the mirrors...

    ...A man stands tall on the sands of time,
    Waving down his help, through his hands he cries,
    As he takes a destined seat next to me, he speaks,
    "So where we goin'," let me be, I think,
    You know where you're goin', and you know the reason why,
    "I'd only like to know, it would give me peace of mind,"
    Black hair and pale skin, half scared through stale grins,
    Empty inside, his past teared from hail winds,
    He was an entertainer, made of the voice of a God,
    With the poise of slob, plus bad choices and thoughts,
    As we approach the gates, he slowly breaks down,
    And makes sounds similar to choking shame down,
    A rain cloud appears in his eyes, he clearly resigns,
    Knowing his destination brought fear to his mind,
    In that moment you can see him rethinking his past,
    The gravity of guilt nearly sinks us in fact,
    Hell's gates in front, he knows his destiny smiles,
    Because there's never an excuse for molesting a child...
    ...Back across the river, throw the anchor and dock,
    The souls of millions stand patient and watch,
    A tall bronze man, with the build of a giant,
    Is next in line, to be killed by the fires,
    It's always the same, he steps on the boat,
    You can feel the nervousness in his throat when he spoke,
    They ask the same question everytime that they board,
    And get the same answer that they try to ignore,
    Another man that had it all, but couldn't keep a happy drawl,
    Instead he speaks fast, hopin' to speak passed his tragic thoughts,
    Exchanged his wife and kids for a life of bliss,
    But bliss counteracted and showered tragic kinds of gifts,
    Murdered by his vice, it's not because she killed the guy,
    He's in hell for leaving his family while he was still alive,
    All the money he made doing what he truly loves,
    Ain't worth shit in the eyes of those he wounded, son...

    ...People crossing Styx don't know who he is,
    Or why he can judge those he doesn't know truly get,
    He has to be unbias, and he has to be fair,
    To either take them to the highest, or to tragedies shared,
    Charon is an angel, as his visitor's learn,
    Yet they'll never know about his only trip to the Earth,
    He came under Yeshua, and he knows all the rules,
    He knows what it means to keep focused and true,
    He's seen the pain felt by those with a curse,
    And he's seen the greed swell every no limit purse,
    He's seen the undeserving get what they deserve,
    Which is why he was perfect for this line of work...


    .:pain:. wins 2-1
  3. Tacky Jones

    Tacky Jones www.TaCsmassivecock.gov

    Feb 25, 2008
    Week 21 vs ErykahCaine

    "The world hates change, yet it is the only thing that has brought progress." -- Charles Kettering

    The Man That Saved The World (From Being Saved)

    He was intelligent, a well of wit, sharp as a tack,
    Yet stupid decisions were a part of his past,
    A genius with a tangled tongue, trapped in circumstance,
    Became a learn-ed man when he tapped the serpant's plans,
    And ate from the tree of knowledge, tasted of grief and promise,
    Staring at discoveries waiting to be abolished,
    Great things, the makings of a genius prophet,
    Made things seem stained sanguine by demon logic,
    Like maybe he could stifle the blood,
    Flooding the fields where nothing is real except rifles and guns,
    He never prayed to Isis' son,
    Instead he cried to the sun, and tried to harness all its life to become,
    He would leave his home for a taste of his right,
    To be free and to roam anywhere that he liked,
    Getting there in the night, plenty scared of the mights,
    And maybes of changing, many paired him with light,
    By the way he illuminated shadows with thoughts,
    That most barely had reached with the candle they brought,
    But even he could barely see the full discovery,
    The rammifications of tastin' a bull's company,
    The power to bring light and heat to the rest of the world,
    But it was pain as the present unfurled,
    Like a lesson on girls, discover one and you'll love,
    Or you'll die from the pride it uncovers in blood,
    It was the fates who decided the world's most intelligent man,
    Would kill the world by development's hand,
    He didn't have the heart to tell us we're damned,
    But he knew it, he was smart, but wasn't melted in sand,
    So his thoughts weren't clear, but they're glass to me,
    If you read all his quotes and his blasphemies,
    About catastrophe, about the path we lead,
    About the past, the disasters, the cash and greed,
    And all the madness he sees in the planet he saves,
    And destroys simultaneously, while standing in shame,
    He made a change that'll alter the earth forever,
    He tithed himself, that's how he worked towards heaven...

    ...His name was Albert, progression, his field,
    Benefiting war without weapons of steel,
    The world hates change, but this has dichotomy,
    Constantly debated, hated and loved by prodigies,
    The change was to save the souls of the weak,
    By taking those who would seek to make a home for the grief,
    He killed many millions, and saved many more,
    But we're yet to settle the fate's petty score,
    The world keeps spinning towards the tool of our doom,
    Blood pools in the room full of fools in a gloom,
    They keep using his moon to create waves of the dead,
    As we lose all his truths to put some grain in our bread,
    He gave us the blueprint to save and destroy,
    But boys will be boys, and we'll play with our toys,
    The discovery he found had him waltzing with princes,
    But even he seemed to lament how he altered existance...


    “I do not believe that civilization will be wiped out in a war fought with the atomic bomb. Perhaps two-thirds of the people of the earth will be killed.”
    -Albert Einstein​

    Erykah wins 3-1
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