discourse with a collector of the dead (w/collecting cadavers?

(collecting cadavers)
Hello You Rotted Hollowed Waste,
May I ask, Just How you Taste?


(whisperer)
of rotting flesh and incadescence
too much waste and malifescence
in this lost city of fallen angels
where's the taste when you have angels?
and what is your essence if one may ask
is it towards the steak?
or or perhaps the ass
end of the suture
perfection a weavers end of the future
a's and b's fall in the ending but tell me
where are your thoughts in the learned descending

(collectingcadavers)
i have No Thoughts.. i Only Crave.. Now Shut up, meal you Must Behave.
You Can talk But It Wont Matter.
You Can Flirt but It wont Flatter. My Only Thoughts? You On A platter.
Or Your Brains Made into Batter

(whisperer)
yet consume you must
or endeavor to overcome pentameter
different to your logic sustained
while you would...
(deign to eat my brain) ?

zombie
like the mnidless your dead and rhymeless other than that which you may know
so continue the rhymeset
minus the mindset it takes to surpass my flow
become the water
flow or falter
in the stream of conciousness you may not know
here's some water wings
bring what the collective brings
and show me
tell me more than what cadavers show

(CollectingCadavers)
You can Rhyme But you Cannot Flow, Your Dead Flow wont Beat Mine.
Your Big words And Fluidness, Wont keep Me From wanting to Dine.
your just a body With no soul, Do You Expect Your'e Something More?
Your Poetry, And Mispelling has left my eyes Quite Sore.
You Can Tell Your Dead, You have No Music, when You Speak your Tongues, I Told you Once you silly Fool, I will win And Have Already won.

(whisperer)
to you
my son of rhyme
all you speak and where you dine
is no big concern of mine
feast on brains feed on weakness i dont care where your meat is you speak of flow and of spelling

youre fighting a drunk

where is your sense of dignity or honor
have you thought above your stunted donner party prose

your zombified rhymes and woes

youre transparent and predictable
a new flavor but still

PREDICTABLE

since im losing i call it dilectable
if it means secondary to your replicable sense of rhyming and
toning
port of habits disowning the point
of where this was going

where have you made your place of berth
have you made it in accordance with the sign of perth?

have you gambled away the existance that made you
raised you
or have i gained you
and played for all that you might be worth

i smile and drop a stone
into that lake you may have owned
as your artistic requiem dispite all that youve said couldve been restful places for bodies

of the dead

but then
this was never really your home


(CollectingCadavers)
Isn't your Goal Integration?
A Higher Form Of education?
Perhaps A Well Paying Occupation,
Yet i have an Interpretation.

You Fail to see that this Fate.
You, tasty, Fine Cuisine.
Ill have your head Upon my Plate,
with a Drink Made Of your Spleen.

I am No son Of Rhyme,
But I am The king Of Gore,
And Your A Drunken, Proof of Death,
And You'll never Be Anything More.

How Many Times will i declare,
That This Poem Has To rhyme?
Ill devour All but Your Hair,
So if you cant, dont waste Your Time.

This Chat Does Not Seem Feasible,
A Simple Waste Of Time?
please again, Make it reasonable,
Why i Shouldnt eat Your grime.


(whisperer)
integration is for the racist
who sees something different that needs to me melded in with HIS society


not how it aught to be

friend

if you were paying attention unlike the joke you make yourself out to seem
you would've seen what it is i mean

while youre chewing a donated spleen
on a platter let the interpretation hit you in the...well you dont have much
where it matters

come now 'king of gore'
i've proven death and so much more with your response and your prose and your limits your shows
of blood and death and frailty and less than human responses and sequitors
nevermind the crappy metaphors

written in oozing rhyme


so eat me

EAT ME
and let my boozing set your pyroclastic decline
in leymans...your simple-esque decline

there's not much your words are worth
keep it real
thats all we here see fit to be heard
yet you declare your own set is refined


you're among royalty son
and they're disinclined to listen to upstarts
climbers of ramparts
you need attention we give it for our own amusement
you are nothing new
so move along and take your place
kneel in your pew son


(Collecting cadavers)
For real Dude.

I Give up. its Not That i Couldnt write More.
But You Can Tell that your Getting Sidetracked with Putting Me in the Dirt, Yet,

You still say, EAT ME, To try And Place Yourself Back in the Theme, While I Stay In The theme Perfectly.

Your Too Cut On Using Your Big words My friend.
Though You Are Good At Your Art.

but Trust Me, I still have Alot More time to Prove Myself.

Thank you Though, I've never Done Anything Like That Before. 'Twas a Pleasure.