Rhyme Off 3

The Son of God v Masta J

Hebetudinous Fuss (the Eternal Rhyme)

Slowly moving sloths eating psycho Jesus' coughs
For the chthonic transmogrifying hellish moths,
To eviscerate and desecrate in their abyssal jaws.
But desecrate the holy pit and they will lose their claws.
Avowed revenge onto the revenant of the mire, splenetic tears fall o'er the wire
Slowly they vow to destroy flames below, coaxing to infernal darkness the opaque fire.
"Why silence the tormented flames, saline rain?"
"But to titillate the flamers, wracked with pain"
But the ochlocracy ruled on, unmarred by shame
In the crucible born upon pyres of Samhein.
Klaxons clashed in sanguine strife, across the plains of Abaddon.
Yet the sanguinity of machinations drove them on and on
And so the smarmy devil-king cried out of fatuous pride
For bureaucracy consumed their souls through helpless songs of Ide
But the assonance of the rhyme off was quite the charm
For beings clashing up in cacophonic alarm.
Strident notes drizzled down their aegises of might.
Stentorian and mighty wielding the sword of plight.
Defenestrate them now, you fools, as lethargy incites not anarchy
Prague would not stand idly by in laconic repose, waiting for Delphi.
The gateway to despair has opened wide and has yet to subside.
Widening and engulfing all satans that may still there reside
I shall return and let bitter retribution singe my hate
I, omnipotent and ubiquitous, am bitter as fate.
The void of destiny is not frail, unlike Odin's ale.
Destination no longer in sight, gaze beyone the vale.
Curarizing the wounds of Mephistopheles look around in depraved stupor;
See that there is no being neither divine nor fell nor resigned in power super.
Groan and moan, you cannot win; hear the final din!
Surrender now to final crime; light shall grow thin.
Promulgation ring through the land for sentiences of humanity devolve
As the world spins at an ambulatory pace; let the ring of stars once revolve!
Celestial sprites hearken with their alluring calls of sloth and peace,
Though this peace of sprites brings naught but spite even with their golden fleece.
May blood-tide rise and the zeitgeist be defiled;
Foul carnage of telluric currents, reviled.
Ebb! And ebb! And flow through clogged Xanthus!
Flow! And flow! Not ebb clog and fail us.
Take heed my son! Anubis bides his time with malevolence
But Ra's rays shall ever shine upon you with benevolence.
Yet do not deign to be convivial with spirits of deities dead!
Amalgamation of food and drink, godless and spiritless fed
Shackleton took death by ice but you shall soujourn through the inferno
Across old Hel's putrid bark, facilis decensus Averno.
Frigid death to the left, blazing life to the right,
Only the blaze is fate, fueling your futile flight.
Obliterate, dominate, self destruct and activate!
Shatter, snap, struggle, and finally regress: salivate!
Forces bend you, and so you break!
Torsion twists me, but break is fake!
An automaton of herculean stature, eat those janissaries for thy desire
To abate the coming fissure of Hercules's pillars and save sanity for thy ire.
Still, why speak of doom as the harbinger of salvation?
Alas, my friend is doom merely but monstrous tribulation?
No no, dear fellows, you dwell in enduring inane repose
Against the inertia of the breaking wave that soon shall close.
Brine drenches us, but we laugh and curse and live!
As waves shall pass and we but laugh our lives away.

Result: draw due to technicality. Though if called Son of God would have lost twice.