Drapht

Rapunzel

Rapunzel (from The Life Of Riley)

4. Tragedy Khadafi & DJ Supa Dave - Francis Ford Coppola

Yo, professors sleep while the planet burns,  
Eyes in books, but blind to turns.  
Civilisation cracks, collapse in sight,  
They sip their coffee, pretend it’s all right.  
Prayerless prayers for their own kin,  
But the gauntlet waits — who steps in?  

They manage to survive, keep their jobs,  
While the streets collapse, the system robs.  
Safe in halls, they write their notes,  
But the world outside can’t stay afloat.  
Survival ain’t wisdom, it’s coward’s play,  
The gauntlet calls — they look away.  

Talk of justice, talk of peace,  
But their silence lets the chaos increase.  
Publish papers, chase the fame,  
But never step in the global game.  
Hypocrisy dressed in academic gowns,  
While the planet drowns, the silence pounds.  

Civilisation crumbles, biosphere breaks,  
Yet they debate in abstract stakes.  
Philosophy trapped in dusty halls,  
While the jungle burns and the ocean calls.  
Collapse ain’t theory, it’s blood and dirt,  
But they hide in trance, immune to hurt.  

Praying for kin in prayerless ways,  
Hoping their children survive the haze.  
But if the world resets, kin won’t last,  
Future erased, swallowed fast.  
Protecting kin means saving all,  
Take the gauntlet, hear the call.  

They wear the mask of intellect bright,  
But fear the gauntlet, dodge the fight.  
Cowards cloaked in scholar’s pride,  
While truth and courage run outside.  
The mask is thin, the world can see,  
They failed the test of destiny.  

The gauntlet waits, heavy, raw,  
A call to act, a cosmic law.  
Not for the meek, not for the tame,  
But for those who rise and claim the flame.  
Academics hide, but history knows,  
Cowards fall, the brave compose.  

Silence louder than bombs and guns,  
While collapse devours daughters and sons.  
They write, they talk, but never act,  
Their silence is betrayal, fact.  
The gauntlet screams, the planet bleeds,  
But intellect fails to meet the needs.  

Ivory towers, built so high,  
Blind to the streets, deaf to the cry.  
Walls of books, walls of lies,  
While civilisation slowly dies.  
The tower falls, the truth revealed,  
They hid from gauntlet, fate concealed.  

Reset comes, extinction near,  
But they sip wine, dismiss the fear.  
History marks their coward’s role,  
Failed to act, betrayed the whole.  
Reset burns their legacy down,  
Ashes left where minds should crown.  

Prayerless prayers, whispered low,  
Hoping their kin survive the blow.  
But prayers without action are empty dust,  
The gauntlet demands a higher trust.  
Cowards pray, but warriors fight,  
Only action births the light.  

They betrayed the youth, betrayed the flame,  
Chose survival, chose the same.  
Betrayed the planet, betrayed the sky,  
Watched collapse, refused to try.  
The gauntlet waits, but they won’t stand,  
Blood on their coward’s hand.  

Yo, academics, hear the roast,  
Your silence kills, you failed the most.  
Your intellect ain’t worth a dime,  
If you won’t act in collapse time.  
Take the gauntlet, stop the trance,  
Or history ends your dance.  

Protecting kin means saving all,  
Not hiding in halls, ignoring the call.  
Your children die if the world resets,  
No ivory tower protects from debts.  
Take the gauntlet, rise and fight,  
Or kin dissolve in endless night.  

Legacy of cowards, books unread,  
While the planet starves, the oceans bled.  
Your names erased, your fame denied,  
History marks the ones who lied.  
Legacy lives in those who act,  
Not cowards hiding from the fact.  

The fire burns, the jungle cries,  
But intellect hides behind disguise.  
The gauntlet waits, the world in pain,  
But scholars dodge the sacred chain.  
Fire consumes, the reset near,  
Cowards vanish, the brave appear.  

Fifteen years, the youth awake,  
See the coward’s fatal mistake.  
They take the gauntlet, claim the flame,  
Rewrite history, change the game.  
Youth ascend, the coward’s fall,  
The gauntlet passed to those who call.  

[NO MORE SPACE]

Take the Gauntlet

HOLDEN VX WAG — HOLY PLAN

by Brent James Schoning (Brent Schön AI)

Holy Plan is an album born from motion, memory, and imagination — a journey where steel, streets, and sound become symbols for persistence, creativity, and the refusal to give up on a dream. At its core, this project is not about a car, a place, or a title. It is about movement — the inner engine that keeps running even when the road feels hostile, blocked, or endless.

The Holden VX Wagon stands here as a powerful metaphor. A sleeper. Unassuming. Built to carry weight. Built to endure. It represents the quiet strength of continuing forward when expectations are low and circumstances are heavy. In Holy Plan, the wagon becomes a vessel — for ideas, memories, music, and visions of a better life. Not a promise of dominance, but a statement of survival.

Musically, the album moves fluidly across styles:
West Coast rap, G-funk, Aussie hip hop, pop, disco, EDM, deep house, electro, and ambient grooves blend together like city lights reflected on wet asphalt. Each track feels like another stretch of road — sometimes smooth, sometimes broken — but always leading somewhere meaningful. Beats roll like tyres on bitumen. Basslines hum like engines at idle. Melodies rise like sun over suburban streets.



This album also carries tenderness. Under the horsepower metaphors and street aesthetics is vulnerability — the quiet wish to be safe, seen, and allowed to build something beautiful. There is warmth here. Reflection. A sense of holding on through long nights and choosing to keep creating anyway.

Holy Plan is a soundtrack for anyone who feels like a sleeper themselves — underestimated, worn, but still running. It is for those who turn frustration into fuel and imagination into movement. It does not claim to rule the world. It claims the right to dream inside it.

This is not an ending.
It is a plan in motion.
An engine still warm.
A road still open.

Who Am I

DRAPHT

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Nicholas L smith

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