Unknown.
Unspecified.‎

"Ladies and Gentlemen, the moment you've all been waiting for on the left we have The undisputed, most lyrical sensation in the world, Prodigy", The speaker announced.

"And on the right we have, the growing, unknown, unspecified the last Bounty Hunter, when she slays she slays", The speaker shouts.

PRODIGY 
Moving with the flow of beats, I serenade my thoughts with new symphonies.
New melodies, thoughts cascading through creating a lyrical abstract.

Now let my words infuse into you and misuse 
Your subliminal thoughts. 
Let me tell you the tale of a lost soul found by the soulless. 

It wasn't a nice summers day.
It wasn't a blistering cold morning.
There was no pain involved whatsoever.
The lost soul feels nothing but moves with the flow of the wind, whichever movement taken it will be accepted. 
The soulless saved me, from a whirlpool of lost and unknown souls they saved me and put me in a situation where feelings were unrequited, unnecessary, sociopath tendencies rolling in,
They saved me. 
Showed me the light of darkness but took me out the darker abyss.
And no amount of gratitude can show that when there's no existing feelings in the first place.
They turned me into a prodigious phenomenal.
Told me my words could get me anywhere.
Ladies and Gentlemen I am Prodigy
A legend amongst the dead, the living, the unknown, the unimaginable.

THE LAST BOUNTY HUNTER

I move with sensational beats,
Stomping to the floor getting down and *****.
Thanking the legends for showing me the streets,
The actual hustle the struggle the flow of the people.
I am the last bounty hunter.
The last of my people, the fighter.
I am like the Ruger No. 1 Varminter K1-V-BBZ one shot and you're out.

"Alright ladies and Gentlemen we got our introduction now it's time for the main attraction. The main topics, we will start of with Prodigy, your topic is Blissful pain".

PRODIGY 

Blissful pain.
Breathe and forget the strain.
Pop pills later and let them invade your veins.

It's Blissful pain.
Bloodshot eyes.
Shaky hands.
Woozy thoughts.

I drowned so much to forget you.
Swimming in liquor,
Taking strange detours.
Hoping to forget you.

It's blissful pain.
The drugs and alcohol make me forget you, make me smile, makes me laugh and free spirited.
The after effects hurt.
Rusty hangovers, forgotten nights and swarming thoughts of what we used to be.
Blissful pain.
Bitter sweet moments.
I miss you...

"Woah okay now it's The Last Bounty Hunter, your topic is Green hills"

THE LAST BOUNTY HUNTER 

Green hills.

"Save me", she whispered.

I watched her at the top of the hill.
Tears running down her face, posture all down,
Her self esteem gone, her entire demeanour broken into tiny little pieces of non existence.

"It hurts", she whimpered.

The green hills holding her in place,
Making her look down on what's meant to be her doom but is rather her freedom.
The dark green trees hold on to her praying she doesn't fall.

"Don't", my hand reaches out to her.
She jumps, falling down, the Green trees try to save her from falling each trying to catch her.

"I'm sorry", I close my eyes as I watch the green Hill devour her.

"Alright Ladies and Gentlemen the next match will be based on a specific topic and that topic is Hunted"

THE LAST BOUNTY HUNTER.

The days are the days of the years of the ages of our dreams.
Realising we aren't what we truly thought we are.
Focusing on dreams of being the hunter yet we are the hunted.

Maybe I don't understand, maybe he doesn't know and maybe she does.

We search seeking for answers, never really finding them but end up digging more in a pit of unanswered questions.

We toggle philosophy, entering the metaphysical ending up with the epistemological.
We complicate the simple, fighting complexity with simplicity.

Hunting.
I lay down looking through my lenses,
Searching for a loophole, a spot, to pounce on my prey.
Because let's be honest.
Our greatest ability is to find the weak spot of the toughest strongest.

Patiently waiting for you to mess up.
I know you know I'm watching.
I can see your insecurities dancing in,
Waltzing, doing oh so melodious moves.
I see them in harmony, in synchronisation with my plan.

You're scared. 
Not ready to fall so I leave.
Giving you a peace of mind till you relax, till you're ready. 
One two three, shots fired.
You've been hunted.

PRODIGY

I've never been one for words.
Never one for feelings and emotions.
I've just been one to move with the motion.

So when she stopped me I was lost, confused.
She put her hand across my cheek
Cheek burning, the sound deafening.

"Why", her voice cracked.
Her bloodshot eyes caught mine. 
Searching for answers praying that I would show her the light. 
That she might be the one I would truly fight for.

With confusion flowing through my mind I turned and walked away.
"I'm not that type of guy", I sighed.
"I can never be that guy". I left

He looked at me as if I was crazy.
"Even the wildest animals out there have feelings compared to you", He laughed.
"You're like a hunter, you **** and you get a thrill put of it and you don't put emotions in it", He spat.
"What the **** is wrong with you", He shouted.

I stared at him. 
Not enough running through my head.
I cooked my head and started laughing.
"Everyone is ****** up" I paused.
Took a deep breath and walked away.

"Well then the final piece is a freestyle feel free to do what you want", the announcer spoke.

LAST BOUNTY HUNTER

For years and centuries I've been a dreamer.
Praying to the gods hoping to become a great believer.
Trying to find the light so that I can become a controversial writer.

I had my heart caged on rage.
My soul flipped and sold for truth.
Hoping to find my true self.

I am the last of the legends.
A writer amongst the lyricist.

I've seen souls sold to the devil for the oblivious life.
Had dreams broken for the delirious minds.

My granddad told me I could be a hero someday.
That I could find wisdom by my writing. 

I looked at him and asked him if I can do it.
He told me "Son you are a Bounty Hunter you can do anything"

My words are my weapons.
This pen is my rifle.
This paper is my ammunition.
This life is my redemption.
Each story is an unravelling revelation.

"Alright ladies and Gentlemen next we have, Prodigy"

PRODIGY.

Alright this is a story of my father and I.
We were somewhat tight, close.
Regardless of my condition I felt something with my father, respect.
I looked up to him.

One day stating at the blue sky, watching the grey clouds, I asked "Dad?"
"Yea son?", He looked at me.
I took a deep breath, watching the sun get overwhelmed by the clouds, the blue sky getting darker. 
"Do you think I'll ever be normal?", I looked at him nonchalantly. 
"I don't know kid", He sighed.
"Does it bother mum that I'm not like the others?" I asked barely above a whisper.
He looked at me, His green eyes overwhelming me with answers, the got teary and at that point I knew the answer.
Reading his sudden dropped posture,
His sudden fidgeting of hands.
Trying to find his words, I raised my hand
"It's okay, I understand", I stood up dusted myself off and walked away.

"Alright that was deep" The announcer mentioned.
"Ladies and Gentlemen who is your winner?"