Arachnid: Alright, the combatants are set let's end this debate once and for all!
Scorpio: Ladies and Gentlemen, it's LIGHTS, CAMERA, ACTION for a DEATH BATTLE!
Arachnid: Let's get right in
The CORE, Underground
The Underground, a world beneath ours holding a vast variety of beings and entities alike whom have lived in harmony for generations to come. However even as the lights shine their brightest its always been foreshadowed that this seemingly peaceful realm must meet its challenger one day.
Inside a machine built to rival the power to that of the sun lied our true and bound heroes ascending to the very top, from room to room a plumb
If I was to leave this world
Or vanish without a trace
With no evidence to where I went
And no body to be found
Who will be those to remember me?
Will they even care to know I am gone?
And what clues of existence
Will I leave behind?
What will I be remembered for?
Will my stories be stand in time?
Or will they remain undiscovered
Over many shaded years
As they fade into obscurity
Like my life and my accomplishments...
There are tried
if not true
I no longer marvel at the cunning of the ants
as they lay empire after empire for a mile and a half
along the corners of milk white sidewalks
then dutifully pile in their chambers and columns
just before the first spring hail
or the imprudent engineering
of barn swallows under tollways
firing up mud caves on bridges’ underbellies
as leviathans more monstrous
than entireties of genetic knowledge
could ever prepare them for
roar throughout their lifetimes
and they build even more,
dangling from adobe nests
like a sect of cliff diving demons
darting through their e
The world does not care
If you fall down and cry
Nor does it matter
Whether on the floor you did die
The world is so heartless
With little to enjoy
And pitiful your actions
That you try to employ
On how to save this world
And all the people inside
Who follow their own course
No matter how sad, they must abide
And the people seem lost
Inside their own existence
Without a thought to change
What makes them feel this
The people pass you by
Like a ghost that can't be seen
With not a heart to share
And no kindness from which to ween
You share talk with friends
Yet you still remained inconsoled
And though their comfort lifts you up