So is it that time again already?
When I dip this quill in an inkpot filled to the brim with blood,
Smear messy and iilegible words of the Devil,
Hieroglyphics to stain the adolescent and impressionable minds,
Brain washing and making puppets of them,
Stringing them along,
Tug on their weak strings, like a man on a mission,
Armed only with a pen as the solitary ammunition,
Wreaking havoc as I please.

Black magic, tarot cards and hexed dolls lying in my cupboard,
Fostered by the demons, misguided by the shadows,
Lit candles, ouija board on the table,
Exorcism and devious manipulations.

The pen is stronger than a sword?
Say that again while I wipe the blood off this katana standing before you,
Where is that false bravado now, when you scream for all you’re worth?
Is that fear?
Staining the mat as the crimson sogs up the carpet,
A macabre view,
Look at you run,
Picking up the pace,
Another one of them races you lure me to,
Thinking you’ll outrun me,
Who’re you kidding?

Did you mistake me for someone else?
When I stand in front of you, don’t misconstrue it,
Wait, did we get off on the wrong foot?
You must have misheard,
Why would I look for an intimate date,
When all I want to do is intimidate.
I walk in the courtroom,
Donning on nothing but a tailormade lawsuit,
Flipping the bird to the executioner and the jury too,
A deep hatred that I bore,
Malice towards everyone,
An unrivaled and indiscriminate fury.

I can be whatever you want me to be,
Vanilla and gentle,
Or as mad as two caged Rothweilers off the leash,
Malevolence and heedless rage,
Leaving behind a trail of reckless carnage.
So many different personas,
It switches in a blink,
Plagued with this constant dilemma.
Always looked up to Mandela,
But inspired by Attila.

Guerilla warfare,
No, I’d rather arm you with a cocked and loaded up glock,
Stare down the barrel of the firearm,
Sever the trigger finger first then slit your throat clean.
Told you I wasn’t kidding around.

Rain, thunder and lightning,
The whole ordeal is like napalm that erupts from all the self loathing,
Leaving it all behind, turning over a new leaf, a metamorphosis into a prodigy,
A bully you’ve turned me into, say one thing and do the other, strangle you with your own hypocrisy,
I don’t step on your guts, I lacerate them with a pocket knife, skilled dexterity.

Getting on your nerves isn’t my intent,
I want to rip them out while they’re mangled in your veins,
Straighten and throw them on the floor and dance on it.
Run your mouth and forget biting your tongue,
Through gritted teeth, I’ll make you swallow it.

Don’t bother saying prayers,
Call on anyone you please,
Hail Mary, she’s a mere spectator,
Helpless in the face of these ghastly otherworldly specters,
A redundant chant, Allahuakbar,
Cower before me, the true tormentor.

Go on, keep pushing me more,
Press on these buttons,
Don’t regret it though when you unleash an Armageddon,
Running circles around you, keeping you on your toes,
Getting you giddy, a perpetual tango,
I don’t play devil’s advocate,
I dance with him instead, still leading,
You’re a layman and I’m an elite.

A storm brewing in the distance, it’s something you can’t weather,
It doesn’t get any better than this,
A cold typhoon won’t deter,
Spraying in every direction I see fit,
Melt you right through with this bucket of Ether,
You can yell, you can shout,
But you can’t wake up from this nightmare neither.

I realize this is pretty different from my usual posts and I was actually going to just delete it. But I decided to run with it since my blog is pretty much all over the place lately with no clear topic.

Also, this was a response to a prompt for a rough rap/horrorcore genre requested by a friend.


8 thoughts on “Cynicism

Add yours

      1. Hahaha all good Shafez 😎 some people just can’t see past the superficial veneer of what is in front of them.
        Which is fine! Being shallow is incredibly important because it protects one from potential harm. Like.. trying to give a whirring blender blade-man a cuddle in the middle of making a smoothie.

        Liked by 1 person

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