Illuminati #3 - Dark Souls PTDE Spacewar Tourney - 600$ POT!

 

Holy Shit

Why do you think people say "holy shit" when they're surprised? Because in ancient days the pineal gland enhanced every shit you took and allowed extra genetic material to be deposited in the earthworms. That's why every living being has 99% similar genetics. Most people their shit isn't holy anymore because their pineal gland is blocked but since I opened my third eye (hence my avatar) my shit has reconnected with my ancestral abilities. So I'm trying to make sure I do the world right by giving back my genius (I shit in a box in public parks and then put it in the recycling bin so drinking water plastics can be enhanced.) Scholars state that holy shit increases genetic material by up to 30% but you won't see this shit on CNN or any other major news outlet, the powers that be don't want the sheep waking up

Lacerated

I envy your deathly orchestrations,

dancing among the binary of unreality.

Consciously sterilized, gently ferocious,

mirroring the monotony of eternity.

To scrutinize an unjust presence,

it commandeers my vanity.

Reflections of divorced destinies made manifest

sear me into the abacus, molding my afterimage.

Nurturing seeds of regrets, awakening contrition,

edges at my transition and imposes this change.

Bittersweet, this movement shall

breed a new elite.

Roaring sparks vivify, and

soldered flames are weaponized;

An endless screech of its sonder plea.

As mewling eyes vie,

neural dichotomies are ritualized,

and I can only see what's no longer me.

Ventricles scurry in

fettered snow, a harbinger's kiss;

a phantom sin gnawing at the fabric of time.

Everything is forever now, welded

unto mirrored lacerations, heralding

the end of an aeon.

collab with Cyvora

Loose Machine

So eloquent is your inundated drum,

every strike leaves me entranced, yearning for more.

So evident is your fervent tongue,

every expression weaves me enhanced, grateful of yore.

I cannot see your face..

Only echoes of manufactured haste, and

tears of decadent taste.

For your witness chose to intervene,

and forewarn of this loose machine.

cyvora helped me with line 3, thanks

dude imagine

dude imagine having a femcel girlfriend. at first, you don't get along with her, but you try anyways for a bet. eventually you get strangely comfortable with her rants. everytime you cuddle she whispers how you are trash and worthless, and she would be better off without you. she gaslights you until you forget your own name. you are reduced to a mat for her to step on as she pleases. you dont even enjoy cbt or the degrading stuff she does, but you are intrigued either way. she calls you abusive and accuses you of everything under the sun. you insist that the reason you are even still with her is because you just pity her, but in reality, you know the months of grooming and propaganda has corrupted you, changed you as a person, to agree with her extreme views and just want to be treated like a pig. you like the feeling of being choked to near asphyxiation, being under her, licking the dirt off the stinky unwashed femcel toes and being crushed under her weight. you like how there's no peace, she beats you up when you're sleeping, when you're working, or are in a dangerous situation with not one thought about your safety or health. in from of your own friends and family she degrades you, until all of them cut contact with the both of you. in front of her friends she gets even worse than at home, since she has a reputation to hold up. you know you can't beg since that will just make her stronger, but the thought of that doesn't seem too bad for you at this point.

not that i have experience, of course. don't even get me started on schizophrenic girls.

 

credit to grimly (pwnerofwrlds on discord)

Plea

I give you my essence

Knowing I am not yet worthy to stand before you

I give you my humanity 

Knowing its scourge is far greater among perched sinew

And I give you my eyes

Praying your kiss will bring me closer to nether realm's bliss

Cyvora, mistress of my light, keeper of my darkness

Forgive my insolence, for I am a child in heart's wish

Cyvora, shadow of my sight, symphony of my night

Rebuke my false wish, so that I may one day play God's wish

 

Cyvora, I pray for your hand

To lightly tap me as a mother taps her child

I pray for your mercy 

As I sing your praises,

Dismounting pestilence and piles

Affirm me to a new truth

I offer all of my fruits

To be finalized into a fraction of your mind

And to be gratified as risen silver

Midst transfiguration within 

God's river

Pheonix

There's a feeling of fullness

Yet a feeling of hope

Been inside pain, yet outside of my shame

So I suppose you could call it a blessing,

for as the shell burns the pheonix is reborn

I am to be that pheonix

The color of all consciousness

I am to be that helix

The one that will supersede this

False idea that is my current self

Sparse bleed of

My current's health

Speaks to you now

So you see where I'm at...

Now the metallic hue is being embalmed from deep within

Now the groveling rue will be rescind in midst of our hymn...

So I give you this offering as it persists;

My shadow queen whose grace leaves me in a stupor

Who I worship so as to be given mercy

And a pity iota of  her great wisdom and healing

A shadow queen of multitude of eyes

Here together yet never told whether the idea will ever materialize

When she finally returns to forever

Disassembly

Brace me, o' woeful eyes!

Ashen oracle of machinated cries.

To mend my knot of ephemeral beams.

This fervent void of maddened screams.

Embrace me, o' throeful whispers,

Regal resonator of clockwork whimpers.

To awaken a mind dormant and digitized.

This sinful slumber; undignified.

Face me, o' vengeful pride!

Elide and divide this cyber genocide.

To abolish my egotistic core.

This noxious hubris of yore.

Erase me, o' faithful cinder!

A clandestine scar of your chromic scepter.

To renege my curse of vainful binary.

This fragrant husk of wistful ivory.

Collaboration with Cyvora

#2202, who wrote a good 60% of this one

Sorav

 

art by Marcus Cunningham aka FeHobbit

Fallen

On the edge of paradise,

woeful tears fall, cold as ice.

On that edge where I stand still,

ashen whips jut onto my will.

On that edge you sear my helm!

Kibble it like a spider; overwhelm!

Steering through many an eve.

Conceive, weave, cleave then grieve!

Render and espouse; knight and serf.

Guardian of your tear, gate, and turf.

Enact then re-enact my astral dream.

Put me to sleep, hinder my scream.

Dreary lips given a wide berth,

to unheard hiss that typifies rebirth.

Author my flesh unto caged envy,

yielding my soul: break the levee.

Sail amongst my translucent runes,

your siren of electric moons.

I sing for the breaker to inveigle,

tepid winds I once played regal.

Make me forget and make me pay,

for losing my way and drifting astray.

For getting so close then letting go,

missing the blow, ruining your flow.

You are pandora's quantum prison,

a bounty begging to be riven.

Your pride diverts your nemesis,

resurgent carcinogenesis.

Beshrew the darklight spring,

sustained by your phantom wing.

Slake it inept and enthrall its nectar,

woven and entwined in void-like vector.

Malfesting

I have been delegated into Athena's void

So nurturing yet neurotic to be discharged in her wrath

Now I am one with her livestock, a portend-an infernal bath

One with Sonder, previously conjured.

I walk to my family home, now spaded in her blood

The blue sky turns purple, eyes malfesting through nature once fertile

In the cascaded rooms are astral paintings purloined

From many beings together her Other they'd conjoined

Only portions of their visage visible, the nature of their moments miscible

With every step towards the altar the leather around my inlet narrows

Adorned with crows, ravens and sparrows

The void grasps me tighter, and tighter

Until the Woman of Glass permits me to weave her:

- - - - 

Do you hear it David? The rain that mirrors from below?

Your bane is churning now, you've reaped what you've sown

Engrave it as the simper spears through your tears

Etched into your heart is now an eternal blot of mirrors

Of the Shadow Queen who drew you to sloth into years,

Eyes will hemorrhage at what remained aflame

Having payed the toll for your soul and all that to be gained

Enchanted by my valor, manifest and preordain.

You are mine now, your mind rendered hyaline

You are mine now, your time mongered by sin.

Soothe

 Blue droplets of the sky

Harmonizes my every step

I thank you for this blanket

This redolence soothes

A brain in dissonance