Limb ThiefStep back you dim-bulb runt,Limb Thief by effigytormented
Better watch out or you'll bear the full brunt,
Of my mad lyrical storm,
I'll take you to my world where pain is the norm,
I'll slam my boot right down on your neck,
best watch out or you'll end up a wreck,
You want a rap battle? I'll give you a war!
Meet my main sword Limb Thief, with him I'll gore!
Drop down into Alber right into a boar's thrust,
I defy your little god in Limb Thief I trust!
Strange dreamDreams are a strange thing, they take us to different worlds, show us glimpses of ourselves as we truly are and sometimes, just sometimes, show us what the future holds. Darrell thought that as he mussed his ruined dishwater blonde curls looking over the wreckage of the farm set high on and nestled deep in, the ridge. The land was changing, day by day, year by year violently after 2012, the magnetic poles had switch causing massive geologic upheavals. Indeed recently he had heard that Missouri was the next state to have sunk into the new inland sea they were calling the The Madres sea. At this rate it would engulf Iowa and possibly reach the great lakes, cutting the country in half . . . . well what was left of the country anyway.Strange dream by effigytormented
"I would have never dreamed this, " he countered his previous thought, "Not in a thousand years."
Darrell looked out at the land he had called his home in his childhood, once a clustering of miles of hills and deep gullies had become a
The Gloom TideDown in the hollow where the wind does blow,The Gloom Tide by effigytormented
a shadow like a black fire started to grow,
shaded in the shade of the old oak tree,
lies a devil too terrible for the eye to see,
and whither does the wind blow in the hollow by the old oak tree,
why it blows to the land of shadows and the grim dark sea,
an 'ere long as the wind does blow,
that back into this land the shadow does go.
War TideEver as death hunts our kin,War Tide by effigytormented
this fear that haunts our mortal sin,
the seething tide,
the rushing red,
the crow that caws 'ere soon we're dead,
the battle fought and murder wrought,
calm rears its head,
bullet cracks the report of pain,
hatred reap and hatred sown,
devil's agony in men we've slain,
fear thee now that die alone,
the magazine belches bolts of fire,
all to lose,
while bodies stacked upon the pyre,
all to gain,
and at the end of this mire,
with bloody rain.