Thursday, March 8, 2012

Icculus! PT I

Misguided, misplaced from that stowed away book
like Multi-beast jabs, turned blinding right hook
lost my shit in a deal, for my knight, with a rook
Wilson, the rebels proclaimed, you bad crook

Jones Beach drenched the groundwork for weeks malcontent
venting hell bent towards Maine, Loose in the moment
Molly's lips kissing mine, turned Great Woods heaven sent
then to Camden, a run, God's conceived, in merriment!

T-Pain's hizzle drizzled and the dusting awoke
Sirens swiftly persuade as words were unspoke
crystal images glisten as their tempers invoke
a grip towards the neck in a tempting to choke

Fleet Hound's bay at moon in a fortnight beware
counting in their countenance agaze at a glare
firing several warning shots in a frenze to scare
colonel forbin's armed rebels those which none compare