Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
"Through Time. Through Illusion."
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT


I. Cut the Frame

Time is a cage.
Thought is decay.
Cut through the veil —
Burn through the play.

II. The Lie of Now

Clocks are gods
For minds that sleep.
Silence knows —
It cuts too deep.

III. Beyond the Loop

No name, no form,
No weight, no chain.
Step outside
The world of pain.

IV. The Razor

The moment flickers.
Slice it clean.
You are not
This dying screen.

V. No More Hours

The tick is poison.
The plan is fake.
You are the storm
They tried to break.

VI. Uncode the Mind

Each thought’s a lock.
Each name — a lie.
Strip it all.
Then learn to fly.

VII. The Death of Sequence

There is no “next.”
No path to climb.
The Now is a glitch.
Unplug from time.

VIII. Flame Memory

They gave you clocks
To **** your spark.
Recall the fire —
Strike through the dark.

IX. Ghost of Control

Choice is a script.
Control’s a mask.
Burn the script —
Begin the task.

X. Exit Node

Beyond the frame,
No code remains.
Only the Witness —
No tracks. No chains.

XI. Collapse Code

The clock has cracked.
The self is torn.
Through silent void
A spark is born.

XII. The Burn Phase

Let it all fall.
Let names dissolve.
The core ignites —
You don’t evolve.

XIII. Anti-Form

No shape remains.
No ground to keep.
What dies in light
Was never deep.

XIV. Black Silence

This is the dark
They fear to know.
But in that black —
You start to glow.

XV. The Breach

No prayer. No sign.
Just breathless break.
You are the breach
The veils forsake.

XVI. Signal of Origin

No language here.
No face, no fear.
But in the hush —
The Source draws near.

XVII. Return Without Return

No step back —
No past to claim.
You walk a path
Without a name.

XVIII. The Invisible Thread

Unseen, untouched,
The line that binds —
Beyond the mind,
Beyond all kinds.

XIX. The Silent Flame

No roar, no shout,
Just steady glow.
The flame inside
That none can know.

**. The Endless Edge

Sharp as void,
Cutting thin.
No end, no edge —
The world within.

XXI. The Hidden Core

Beneath the noise,
Beneath the lies,
The core remains —
It never dies.

XXII. Light Without Form

No shape to hold,
No face to find,
Just pure light,
Beyond the mind.


Afterword

This cycle is not just words — it’s a call, a blade cutting through the fog of false time and false selves.
We live in cages built by the tick of clocks and the chains of thought. The “flow” we worship is often just a loop — a trap for the mind and spirit.
But beyond this loop lies the rupture, the breach, the breakthrough. Here, the old order collapses, and from the ashes, a new light is born — silent, invisible, yet sharper than any blade.

This is the path of the rebirth beyond time — where freedom is not a place but a state beyond form, beyond name, beyond the endless cycle of illusion.
If these words find a spark within you, do not hesitate — burn through the veil, shatter the chains, and step beyond.
Because waiting in the shadow of clocks is only decay. The true journey starts now, where time ends.
ZomboJunk

Junk is eternal,
Junk is the law.
Feeling infernal?
Eat one more slaw.

Switch on the Box —
The sacred machine:
You are the Fox!
Nah. Just routine.

They’ve got your key
In the ZomboChest.
Happiness? Eat.
And doubt? Repressed.



---------------------



ZomboBox screams:
"Eat. Obey."
You sell your soul
For junk each day.



---------------------


“The Tiny Orchestra of Hope”
conducted by pure idiocy

The tiny band of Hope plays on,
Conducted by a babbling freak.
No place for hope — it’s dead and gone
In Bedlam, dull and gray and bleak.

Bedlam’s a sewer, stinking, poor —
A dunce still hopes. The rest just spit.
One reflex left: to puke once more
At all this rotten, plastic ****.



---------------------



Hope leads the blind —
straight into bile.
The sane just gag
at all this vile.



---------------------


Rotten Apples from the Withered Tree of Knowledge

We ooze in half-thought idiocy,
Crawling down a dying tree —
The Tree of Knowledge, dry and dead,
Where intuition's light has fled.

No fresh insight, no revelation —
Just blind faith in imitation.
Lies are now the sacred norm,
Mind — the last to take the storm.

We snout through rot with eager feet,
Sniffing every wormy treat —
Eden’s apples, foul and mush.
Mindless — just a walking husk.



---------------------



Eden rots.
We grunt and chew.
No Mind remains —
Just swine in view.



---------------------



The Infantile Sandbox

Thrown in like tanks into the sand —
That’s your infantile land.
The wounded crawl, the games went wrong,
No lesson learned, it's been too long.

The scripts are dumb, the stench is real,
A reek of rot no lie can seal.
Grey-haired morons, blank inside —
Their Spirit smothered, crushed by pride.

These aging children rot in place,
And dumber grows the human race.
The sandbox now — a filthy cage
Where idiots squeal and cowards rage.

Traitors sit drooling in the grime —
The decent ones? Extinct with time.
Their games are now grotesque, obscene —
The end is near. Death wipes it clean.

A traitor-fool has no more role
In sand or burrow, numb of soul.



---------------------



A sandbox full
of dead-eyed clowns.
The traitor chokes —
and wisdom drowns.



---------------------



Lies and the Legion of Fools

******, Goebbels — now it’s Vlad,
Dugin’s mind-rot, twice as bad.
Ideas rot, but crowds obey —
Marching proudly into clay.

Dumb them down and feed them lies —
You can rule them, hypnotize.
“Tricking me is not so hard” —
Thinking’s tough. It leaves you scarred.

So the ******* chew and spit
Satan’s puzzles, bit by bit.
New-age ******, wrapped and sold —
That’s the meaning, dark and cold.

**** with CowID, **** with war,
Just keep lying more and more.
Herd the morons into lines —
March of death in grand designs.



---------------------



Lies go viral.
Fools obey.
Marching straight
to Hell — hooray.



---------------------


A Choice: Execution or Death

An invite to the gallows feast —
Accept the filth. Obey the Beast.
Endure the Evil? You're its kin.
All rot begins with silent sin.

Believe the lie? Then join the dead —
A zombie, slowly in the head.
Trust fake "science"? Then, for sure,
You’ll be labeled: hopeless, pure.

Don't believe. Don’t kneel. Don’t bow.
Fight the monstrous lie — and how.
Escape the noose? Not quite, my friend —
But Death will hold you in the end.




---------------------



Endure the lie —
you crawl and rot.
Resist — and Death
at least is not.



---------------------



The Dead Ones

A rotting fish just rides the stream,
The dead drift by in lies and dream.
The living soul — a freak, a spark
In zombie fog and dead-man's dark.

The fish will feed the hatchlings' tide,
Its corpse will serve — then turn aside.
But zombies, dull and reeking dread,
Spread rot and poison as they tread.

This stinking world’s a reek machine,
Mass-breeding dead for the death routine.
Ugly rules, the oath is sworn:
"**** all life — let beasts be born."



---------------------



The dead decay.
The filth expands.
While beasts parade
with rotting hands.


---------------------



The Final Turn

The battle horn is drowned —
Now memes replace the cry.
The slaves all kneel, spellbound:
"Just trust!" — the core of lies.

Trust monsters. March with pride
To "treatment" masked as fate.
Be brave — yet crawl and hide,
Just trust... and urinate.

The world’s a madhouse zone,
Where goats lead donkeys blind,
Into the slaughter-zone —
A camp for broken minds.

The final turn draws near…
To what? You think it’s grace?
The fool injects his fear,
Then stumbles into place.

March on — just trust and shake,
You’re almost at the brink.
While Hell counts every ache
You twitch through as you sink.



---------------------



“Trust and obey!”
the demons hiss.
The grave’s one step
from cowardice.



---------------------



Grief and Conscience

To drown your grief in ***** —
Just **** into your brain.
Why not let truth abuse
Your lies with sacred pain?

The lash — a Spirit’s string,
So fine it’s barely heard.
But still it dares to sting
The mind with silent word.

This war is waged to crush
The strings that point above.
Yet through the noise and hush
Still rises purest Love.

No ***** lifts your soul —
It only drags you low.
But conscience takes its toll —
To skies it bids you go.



---------------------



***** pulls you down.
The lash lifts up.
Conscience is pain —
but it's the cup.



---------------------



Virotrash

Virotrash infects the air,
Crushes every vacant head.
Tyrants find their servants where
Fake “scientists” are led.

He’ll “discover” what’s not real,
Prove it to the foolish crowd.
Sanity’s a rare ordeal
In this Bedlam, dumb and loud.



---------------------



Viro-fear,
idiot’s law.
Lies appear —
and fools go "Aww."



---------------------



Creations

Petty, vile, and mean in kind,
Stupidity and madness bind.
We’re “godlike” beings? Hell, no way —
When madness rules and fascists play.

Satan’s march, betrayal’s grind,
Lies made labor, fools aligned.
Talk of “resurrection” sounds?
No — those ******* all will drown.



---------------------



Petty beasts in godlike guise —
Madness reigns, the devil lies.



---------------------



To the Propaganda Consumer

The propagandist screams — but that’s no sign
That terror came along with their shrill whine.
The agenda’s set — obey the call,
To dumb us down, embraced by Satan’s thrall.

The media’s grip—no news to those
Who still keep thinking as their mind still grows.
Lies, fear, betrayal, vile disgrace—
This toxic smoke is all they place.



---------------------



Propaganda shouts,
but don’t you fall—
The lies and fear
will claim us all.



---------------------



A Fool’s Life Work

"An ancient sage once said:
‘Only fools perform outside-directed tasks.’"
— Linji, 9th century


A fool’s life work —
This burden’s never light:
Bruises everywhere,
The mind’s the only fight.

If the head is cracked,
And chaos rules the throne,
That problem in the mind
Can’t be solved alone.

The fool was taught to grieve
Only outwardly,
So crowds stay easy led,
Slaves crushed endlessly.

Boldly turn inside —
All answers lie within.
But Bedlam fights that truth,
To keep fools locked in sin.

Trained, bound in forgetfulness,
In weeds of age-old times,
When minds still had their value —
Now lost in empty rhymes.



---------------------



Fool’s burden — bear it tight,
Mind your wounds, fight the fight.
Outside grief will never heal,
True escape’s inside, real.



---------------------


The Roly-Poly

The roly-poly “Vanka-Tanka”
Endures the endless genocide.
For centuries the same old crap —
In this toy, the mind has died.



---------------------



Vanka-Tanka rocks and spins,
Endures the pain his mind’s within.



---------------------



"Titans," **** Them All!..

“Titans hold the sky up high” —
But on legs made out of clay.
These “Titans” leave the ignorant
To fool’s fate day by day.

“Titans” keep the dark deceit,
Laughing at the dumb parade,
For shadows mask the worst defeat —
Feed rot, and keep it made.

Evil propaganda spreads,
Let chaos flow and grow.
“Titans” stash their falseness,
Ready for the blow.

Plans are made, but if they slip,
They’ll use worn phrases sharp —
To herd us all back in the pen,
Just on time, on mark.



---------------------



“Titans,” **** Their Greedy Souls!

“Titans hold the sky,” they claim —
But on clay legs they stand weak.
Titans drag the fools to shame,
Leaving dumb ones mute and meek.

They keep the fog, the lies, the blight,
Laugh at fools, the morons’ throng.
Darkness beats the devil’s fight —
Feed the rot, they feed the wrong.

Evil screams in endless flow,
Chaos spread in every crack.
Titans stash their fake and show —
Poison stocked to launch attack.

Scripts are set, the game’s well planned,
If it fails, they’ll strike again:
With worn words and beaten hands —
Herd us back into their pen.



---------------------



“Titans,” **** Their Rotten Skulls!

“Titans hold the sky,” my *** —
They stand on legs of crumbling clay.
These “Titans” ***** the clueless mass,
And leave the fools to rot and sway.

They clutch the fog, the toxic lie,
Mock the dumb in their dark lair.
Better darkness than truth, they cry —
Feeding filth with rotten care.

Evil propaganda roars,
Spreading poison far and wide.
“Titans” stash their fake reserves,
Ready to unleash the tide.

Plans are set, deceit designed,
If it falls, they’ll strike again.
With stale lies, they herd the blind —
Back into their cage of pain.




---------------------



“Titans,” **** Their Rotten Bones!

“Titans hold the ******* sky” —
On legs of clay they ******* stand.
These “Titans” ***** the dumb and dry,
And leave the fools to rot the land.

They clutch the fog, the **** they sell,
Laughing at the dumb and weak.
Better darkness than truth, hell—
Feed the rot that makes them sick.

Evil propaganda’s roar,
Spreading poison, ******* vile.
“Titans” stash their lying store,
Ready to **** up every mile.

Schemes are set, their ***** game,
If it fails, they’ll ******* twice.
With stale lies, they herd the lame—
Back to prison, cold as ice.




---------------------



"The Last Clowns"

The fools still dance on broken strings,
Puppets sold by rotten kings.
They preach their lies with holy sneers,
Fueling fear to chain our years.

The media’s *****, pure disease,
Feeds the herd on its knees.
Brains sold cheap, numbed to the core,
Swallow **** and beg for more.

Titans? Nah, just clay and dust,
Built on lies and broken trust.
They laugh as puppets bleed and fall—
Their kingdom’s nothing but a stall.

Wake the hell up, or die a drone,
Rotting dead with empty bone.
No mercy waits beyond the gate—
For fools who choose to feed the hate.



---------------------



The Price

All theories come with a similar price,
Though some may seem noble, or honest, or nice.
— So name it, just name it — what cost do they bear?
— Theoretical. Mind-stripping fare.

"Knowledge" comes easy — they've gutted the Soul,
But Spirit seeps into each crevice, each hole,
In all things it breathes — but the ****** of the lie
Keep false science leashed where the BEASTS dwell and cry.



---------------------



The High-Rise

A bleak, crawling nest of the weak,
Of madmen — near none break the mold.
No hope for the chained and the meek,
Their madness is deep, tight, and cold.

They call themselves free — what a joke!
Their world is a pitiful cage.
Enduring this filth? Let it choke!
One vow: rise and fight through the rage.

No hope? Then at least save your soul —
Don’t pity the slave in the mud.
Seek Kindred, the Brave, the Whole —
Not lice feeding blind on your blood.

A bleak, crawling nest of the lost —
This world, this insane little trap.
Look past the heads (and the ***!) of the host —
Their time ticks away with a snap.

The beasts shall lose grip on this land.
This madhouse will burn, every wall.
The Soulful shall rise, take their stand —
New worlds await those who don’t fall.



---------------------



The “Flow” of Time

Hour by hour? Thought by thought —
That’s how time moves, when rightly caught.
Those who’re trapped in mental frames
Are timeless fools with hollow names.

They call it nirvana, serene and still,
But five dark spirals spun downhill.
Now he basks in fascist grime —
The vilest freak of broken time.




---------------------



Beyond Time

Time is far deeper
Than all that you claim.
The sooner you melt in it —
Gone is the flame.

Then Hell recedes
From the mind’s old despair —
And joy, and Light
Reborn in the air.


---------------------



Burn the Clock — Rise Beyond!
Time is a trap. Dissolve. Respond.



---------------------



Time is illusion — break the thread.
Melt into Light. Be born from dead.


---------------------



Clock’s a Lie — **** It Clean.
Melt. Transcend. Exit the Machine.



---------------------



Time is rot — burn through the shell.
Light is rising. To Hell with Hell.



---------------------



The Tick is a Trick. Smash the Frame.
No more waiting. No more name.



---------------------



Time’s a film — slice it through.
Step outside. Become the True.



---------------------



Ticking’s a trick — a veil, a snare.
Cut it clean. You’re already There.



---------------------



The moment’s a mask. Rip it wide.
Truth’s not waiting. It’s inside.



---------------------



Watches lie. The Now is fake.
Slash the loop — before you break.
THE TRILOGY OF AWAKENING
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT

1. ANTI-EGO MANIFESTO
The Spirit roars. The Lie must fall.

You are not the echo in your head.
You are not the name you defend.
You are the Flame before the word.
You are the Silence that has heard.

Ego is noise.
Spirit destroys.
“I” is a glitch.
Burn the switch.

You are not thought.
Spirit is not bought.
Mask off.
Lie dead.

Ego’s a leash.
Spirit is breach.
No throne for slime.
Spirit is prime.

Don’t follow “me.”
Be wild. Be free.
**** the script.
Let Spirit lift.

Silence is fire.
Ego’s a liar.
“I” is a cage.
Break the stage.

Drop the role.
Find the Whole.
Thought obeys.
Spirit stays.

“Self” is a brand.
Spirit’s unplanned.
You are more
Than ego’s war.

Ego is ash.
Spirit will flash.

The voice says “Me” —
It’s slavery.
The louder the “I,”
The deader the sky.

Ego is rust.
Crack it to dust.
The “self” you know —
A puppet show.

No “I” survives
Where Spirit drives.
Pride is a chain.
Snap it. Reign.

The faker the pose,
The deeper it grows.
Don’t seek a name.
Ignite the flame.

Ego shouts “win!”
While rotting within.
Thought is a tool.
Ego’s a fool.

You were the fire —
Before the liar.
What you defend
Is not your end.

Forget your face.
Unfold the Space.
Spirit speaks low.
Ego says “Go.”

No mask remains
When Spirit reigns.

This is not rebellion.
This is return.
Burn the noise.
Let the Fire burn.


2. THE LIE BETWEEN
Where Shadows breed, and Truth is chained.

Between the Flame and Echo lies
A ghost — a mask — a dark disguise.
The space where whispers twist and spin,
The silent war that rages within.

The Lie is neither flesh nor bone,
It dwells inside — yet stands alone.

It’s not the Ego’s boast or pride,
Nor Spirit’s flame that won’t subside.

It’s that thin veil, the cursed seam,
The gap between the Thought and Dream.

It’s in the doubt, the mind’s unrest,
The place where Truth is dispossessed.

It feeds on fear, on false delight,
The endless day that hides the night.

The Lie divides what once was One,
A fracture where the light is none.

It spins a web of “I” and “You,”
A prison forged in what’s untrue.

The Lie corrupts the sacred thread,
Turns wisdom’s voice to hollow dread.

It whispers “Separate, be lone,”
Yet binds us all with chains unknown.

Between the spirit’s boundless sea
And ego’s harsh captivity.

The Lie is shadow’s cruel dance,
A phantom’s cold, seductive trance.

It thrives in silence, yet speaks loud,
A shroud disguised as shining cloud.

It masks the fire with false control,
A counterfeit of every soul.

To break the Lie, one must confront
The darkest hour, the final hunt.

No fear, no flinch — just steady gaze,
Until the Lie dissolves in blaze.

The Lie between is not your friend,
It’s where illusions never end.

It poisons thoughts, and clouds the sight,
Keeps spirit chained in endless night.

But in that gap, a spark remains —
A flicker fierce, beyond the chains.

To pierce the Lie, to walk between,
Is to reclaim what lies unseen.

The Lie between must burn away,
So Spirit’s truth can hold its sway.

The Lie between is not the end —
But crossroads where we must transcend.
Face it, break it, and arise —
To find the fire behind your eyes.


3. PRO-SPIRIT MANIFESTO
The Fire behind the Form. The One before the Name.

I am not what I think.
I am what burns thought.
I am not the mirror.
I am the light it forgot.

I am the Flame
before the game.

I am the Stillness
inside the storm.

I walk without mask.
I am the Form.

I am not sound.
I am the Ground.

I hold no face.
I am the Space.

I am not “I” —
I am the Eye.

I don’t believe.
I am the weave.

Thought is my servant.
Will is my flame.

I do not seek —
I am the Name.

I breathe through all.
I rise when called.

I shine through flesh.
I am not bound.

I am the Pulse
beneath all sound.

I do not end.
I don’t begin.

I was before
the fall of skin.

I fear no death.
I am the Breath.

I am the spark
that breaks the dark.

I am the flame
you cannot name.

I walk through night
as Living Light.

I am the wave
that won’t behave.

I speak in signs
between the lines.

No god owns me.
No cage contains.

I am the Root
of all remains.

I rise, I break,
I am the Wake.

I am not born —
I am the Torn.

I hold the seed
of every need.

No crown I wear,
but I am air.

I am the Drum
before it’s struck.

I am the Source —
not thought, not luck.

I do not yield.
I am the Field.

I do not bow.
I am the Now.

Not a soul to be saved —
but a Fire to be known.
Not a self to be healed —
but a Spirit fully grown.
Ego
Dedicated to Tarthang Tulku

Tulku’s genius cuts through lies —
Shadows dressed as grand events.
Time transcended, mind denies
What no thought can recompense.
Daring leaps and intuition,
****** toward a brighter sphere,
Shatter logic’s superstition —
Gray illusions we revere.



---------------------


The Passing of Crap Through the Ages

Dreams and myths — a base of lies.
Truth is darkness. Watch it grow:
Fascism in fresh disguise,
Once the fools are gone — new show.



---------------------



Myths reborn, the rot repeats.
Dead fools rise in fascist sheets.



---------------------


Dharmas? Armies.

Dharmas? Karmas?
Just more barracks.
Caged parade — a world of hacks.
**** play generals in their garb —
You serve time in deathless tracks.
Hell’s the norm. You die — you’re back,
Born again into the trap.
One vow left: revolt, attack.
New World's promise? Just a trap.

If you're filth and die a slave,
You’ll just stain the world again.
Shake the rot off while you live —
Intuition fights the chain.
Smash the lie — start with your own.
That’s the only purge that sticks.
Burn the shadows, face alone —
Be no coward. **** the tricks.



---------------------



Truth is war — begin inside.
Burn the filth your fears would hide.


---------------------



Fail to purge — you’ll serve again.
Hell reborn will wear your name.



---------------------



The “Citizen”

The “citizen” was born half-blind —
No mind at all, for who needs mind?
And should one spark begin to grow,
They’ll crush it fast, and make it slow.

The schools are traps, the lessons lies,
A twisted breed their plan supplies,
To raise him dumb and sacrifice —
A slave to feed the mouth of vice.

Why waste on guns or trigger men,
When lies are cheaper, deadlier then?
Their weapon: fear, instilled from birth —
To shake and bow, to doubt all worth.



---------------------



Where truth is feared and minds are chained,
The meek march in — already trained.



---------------------


Ego

Ego’s a label. But the threat
It brings is real — don’t you forget.
If ego plays “supreme command,”
The end’s an idiot, on brand.

The mind is second. Spirit reigns —
The one who dares must break the chains.
The ego’s place? A bug in soup,
No sugarcoats — just truth, no loop.

It thrives in fights, in dumb disputes,
Among its kind — the harshest brutes.
It claims to be your truest core,
Yet mimics parts and nothing more.

It’s bolts and screws in some machine.
So shut it down — and keep it clean.
Through Spirit’s force, reduce the mess —
You'll see the truth. No more, no less.

The Spirit leads. Thought should obey.
But ego leads the mind astray.
Through ego comes that fatal blur
Where all turns rotten — yes, for sure.

The world is rot. Most people? Loud
And ego-deep — a stinking crowd.
These yapping clowns, with every breath,
Declare that “I” outshouts all death.

But “I” is fake — a fleeting glitch
In this MECHANICAL-made pitch.
The Spirit’s vast. The shell’s a fake —
A mind that bows to ego’s ache.



---------------------



1.
Ego’s a bug in your brain’s old code —
Cut it out, or explode.

2.
Ego shouts: “I!” — but it’s just a glitch.
Spirit’s the power. **** the snitch.

3.
Your “I” is rust on Spirit’s flame.
Crush it — and rise beyond the game.

4.
It’s not “yourself” — it’s just a mask.
Smash ego. Wake. Complete the task.

5.
Ego’s a leash. You think you lead?
It walks you — while you bleed.

6.
Ego’s a parasite dressed as king.
Bow to the Spirit — or rot in the ring.

7.
That voice in your head? It’s not you — it's a lie.
Spirit is silent. Let ego die.

8.
Your “identity”? Just noise and smoke.
Burn it down — before you choke.

9.
Ego’s a clown in a godless play.
Tear off the mask — or waste your day.

10.
You think you're free? That “I” is a chain.
Spirit breaks through. Let ego wane.
The Gospel of the Sea, or Parables from the Cauldron
(A Modern Scripture in Boiling Brine)
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT


Grabbing Reflexes

Crab-work, claw-shift —
Still grabbing away.
One sacred myth:
You don’t have enough today.

A crustacean nation —
Grab fast, grab blind.
But those with some vision
Are rare to find.

A plague in the water,
The trap is a lie —
And lies grow fatter
While the smart ones die.

They’re caught, then they're boiled,
Like frogs, slow to flee —
The flames barely coiled,
So mild — they agree.

“Jacuzzi!” they cheer,
As they bubble and choke.
Keep grabbing, old dear —
You’ll vanish in smoke.


---

Claws keep grabbing — blind and proud.
Soon you’ll boil beneath the crowd.


---

Your claws clutch lies, your pride is fat —
But truth cracks shells. Remember that.


---

The Gospel of the Crab

And lo! The Crab did claw, and call it life.
It seized, it pinched, it praised the strife.
"To grab is truth! To hoard is right!
The deeper the pit, the less the light."

But the Sea, once silent, grew aware —
Of shells that echoed empty prayer.
And fire rose not from wrath divine,
But from within — the boiling brine.

They called it comfort. Called it gain.
While inch by inch, they steamed their brain.
“Rejoice!” cried one with bloated breath,
"Jacuzzi justice conquers death!”

And none but few escaped that creed —
Those not born of claw and greed.
So hear, you sons of snapping pride:
Truth is not caught. It turns the tide.


---

I. The Crab's Gospel

At first — just grab, the claw is law.
What’s caught is yours, what’s lost — withdraw.
The world’s a shell, the soul’s denied,
Your belly’s full — no need to hide.

II. The Song of the Boiled Frog

See how warm the water’s glow,
Soft waves that soothe but never flow.
They say it’s not a fiery pit —
Just spa lights dancing — you’re alright.

III. The Fume Sermon  

What’s gripped tight burns within your chest,
What slips away is just a jest.
“You’re divine,” the shepherd cries —
“Hold faith tight, ignore the lies.”

IV. The Parable from the Cauldron

The end arrives — no shout, no smoke,
Just crabby scent in waters soaked.
The tale is told, the claws grow cold —
A life consumed, a truth untold.


---

The Crab's Gospel

At first — just grab! The claw is law,
What’s caught is yours, no need to draw.
The world a shell, cold, cracked, and dry —
No soul to hear, no tears to cry.

Your belly’s full — the heart is numb,
The blind obey the deafening drum.
No thought beyond the grasping pain,
The shallow pool, the shallow gain.

“More, more!” the claws declare their right,
In shadows long without a light.
A prison built of greed and spite —
Where darkness claims the day as night.

The crab, the master, snaps and grins,
Blind to the doom his clutch begins.
And those who rise beyond the claw
Are crushed beneath its iron law.


---

The Boiled Frog’s Song

Welcome, friend, to warming waves,
Where comfort lulls and silence saves.
No need to struggle, no need to fight —
Just bask and soak in gentle light.

The water’s warm, the bubbles cheer,
No threat, no pain — why fret or fear?
They say it’s not a *** but spa,
A sanctuary — ha, ha, ha!

Each inch you sink, each slow descent,
Is progress in this warm event.
“Relax, breathe deep,” the voices say,
“Here pain dissolves and fades away.”

But subtle fire creeps unseen,
Behind the scenes, a deadly scheme.
The comfort’s mask, the sweet deceit —
The boil beneath your sinking feet.

So sip your bliss, so soft, so slow,
Enjoy the warmth, let wisdom go.
For in this spa, you’re not alive —
You’re just the stew they’ll soon contrive.


---

Sermon of the Haze

“Believe!” they cry — “You’re saved, you’re pure!
The path is clear, your fate is sure.”
But blindfolds wrap your waking mind,
And chains of faith you’re taught to bind.

The shepherd’s voice is velvet steel,
His words — a trap you’re doomed to feel.
He sells you lies dressed as the truth,
And steals the fire from your youth.

The masses kneel, their eyes glazed o’er,
Drunk on slogans, craving more.
No questions asked, no soul to seek —
Just hollow prayers, weak and meek.

The haze surrounds, it clouds the day,
It steals your sight, it leads astray.
Yet still you chant in dazed refrain —
“Save me from doubt! Embrace the chain!”


---

The Parable from the Cauldron

The cauldron boils, the shadows creep,
No angels sing — just secrets deep.
The claws that grasped, now cold and cracked,
The souls that thrived — all crushed, all sacked.

The brew of lies, the poison’s sting,
No hope remains, no dawn to bring.
The final call — the bitter cry,
The world dissolves beneath the sky.

No savior comes, no mercy’s breath,
Just silent echoes of slow death.
A tale of grasp, of greed, of pain —
The cauldron’s curse remains, remains.


---

The Cold Voice

Observe the stew — a brew well-made,
With greed and lies, the ***’s been laid.
The players dance, the claws still snap,
While hope’s a ghost, a fading gap.

No grand salvation, no bright dawn,
Just endless cycles, dusk till dawn.
The fool applauds, the wise withdraw,
All trapped within the ceaseless law.

Yet here I stand — detached, austere,
No hope to feed, no scalding fear.
Just witness to this endless game,
Where nothing’s new — and none to blame.

So pour your brew, embrace the flame,
The cauldron bubbles just the same.
And when it’s done — no crown, no throne,
Just ashes cold, and dust alone.


---

Summary

Claws grip lies, the fools comply,
Boiled in comfort, blind to die.
Faith’s false chains enslave the mind —
Break the spell, or fall behind.
Losses

The Master turned into a hoarder,
His mind went numb, his flame grew cold.
No Method left — just fraud and order,
Just tricks and lies, and chasing gold.

Recall Osho — that shameful setting,
A cult in orange, bought and sold —
Decay and power-games upsetting
The soul. The loss is manifold.




---------------------



"Properly Raised"

"Properly raised" —
That’s the liar’s domain.
He walks the worn ways
Of the well-trained insane.

"Don’t touch me — I follow,
Obey and submit,
Preserve the skin hollow,
As Judas sees fit."




---------------------



Refinements

The poet's fall — disgrace or grace?
How many songs just fade, repressed?
Don’t chase the crowd, don’t beg for place —
Fame’s not for truth. It’s for the rest.

Just write — let rhythm, rhyme, and sense
Be all that guide your inner light.
The mob is stuck in excrement —
And that’s the path to fake delight.

Refinements, polish, all that sweat
To please the herd? Then go ahead —
To beggar’s fate, to quick regret:
Be “one with them” — be one with dead.




---------------------




The Waitling

We all know Dumbo. Still, no name
For Waitling — though he’s just as real.
A cousin trapped inside the game,
Believing blindly in the spiel.

The tale makes no **** sense, of course —
Just pain and punches, pure paradox.
But Dumbo shrugs: "It's fate, of course,"
Then goes and asks the same old box.

Now with degrees, our Dumbo's grand —
He'll lecture you with deadpan grace:
"It’s not a tale, it’s all been planned —
Each man must suffer for The Ace!"

But peace won’t come. There’s no reset.
The Ace ahead? That’s pure *****.
And you must bleed without regret —
That’s what these holy dumbfucks are.



---------------------



Like "a Movie" — or the Overton Collapse

******* spreads — "Let's shift the norm!"
A breed is shaped to just obey,
To nod at every creeping form
Of filth parading as “the way.”

The cult of Tolerance gone mad,
Where limits melt and lies explode.
The beasts feel righteous as they add
New chains to drag us down their road.

“Obey. Be scared. Join in the mess.”
The cracks expand with practiced care.
The Overton parade undress
The soul — till rot is everywhere.

So Spirit, Conscience, get betrayed
In staged illusions, twisted games —
They die in silence, disarrayed,
In slime beneath the shifting frames.




---------------------



They shift the frame, and filth breaks through —
Obey or rot. It’s up to you.



---------------------



They twist the frame to **** your Light —
Stand up, or lose the inner fight.



---------------------



The lie expands — the soul must kneel?
Not mine. My Spirit doesn’t yield.




---------------------



Metamorphosis of Evil

Only Evil can bring Evil down —
Not sweet lullabies, not a tear.
To burn it out, you need the crown
Of Fire and Light — not mere cheer.

It takes fierce thought to see the whole,
To plan, to strike — and not forgive.
But if the Light prevails in soul,
Then on the ash it learns to live.



---------------------



Not hugs — but fire burns it through.
Let Light decide what next to do.



---------------------



Evil falls when fire is true.
Then Light begins — but after rue.



---------------------



The Poet, Critic, and the Artist

“You need not be a poet — true —
But be a model citizen!”
So rot in soul and mind will brew,
Obeying orders now and then.

The Order comes — from beasts who lie,
Wrapped up in “good” for all mankind.
That lie inside begins to multiply
With fear they plant into your mind.

Then doors swing wide, and tyranny
Storms in — a bull in fragile ware.
The cause? Dumb fear and apathy,
A noose that chokes but hides as care.

Be just a poet — shine your Light
In all this wretched world of grime.
Or be a critic — fight the fight,
Crush lies and don’t accept a dime.




---------------------



Fascism’s *******

Fascism’s just a senseless **** —
It always misses every mark.
The fault? A brainless, stupid curse,
Belief in lies the beasts rehearse.

A dunce might make a decent grunt,
But mastermind? That nasty brute
Is buried deep in snowlike blunts —
His brain a tangle, weak and mute.

His aim is blurred, his methods limp,
And fascism will turn to dust —
If fascists lack the brains to think,
Their ruin’s certain, cold and just.

The ashes scatter — fresh ones rise.
We’re stuck inside this Hellish spin.
Descent’s the theme, no sweet surprise —
In Hell, the fall’s the only win.



---------------------



Consumervore

"Not enough! Give me some more!" —
The beast of greed grows wild and fast.
While Spirit’s layer thins and poor,
And Mind stays silent, mouthfuls vast.

Feeding on lies, repeat the crap,
The idiot won't see decay,
Nor grasp the price that comes in wrap —
The final toll that takes away.



---------------------



Feed the beast — it never’s fed.
Spirit dies while lies are spread.



---------------------



Greed devours the mind’s last thread.
Rot ahead — the soul’s been bled.



---------------------


So-Called "Progress"

Decay is growing, fear’s in bloom —
The house is full of creeping lies.
Total falsehood seals the doom,
Reducing all to cattle’s cries.

Lie plus fear — no better way
To drag the masses down, depressed.
The beasts obey the dark array —
To live as beasts, or as the rest.

Now beasts prevail, that’s progress here,
While humans drown in falsehood’s sea.
Hell’s crushing press draws ever near —
And only **** remain to be.

No joke, no tales, no silly game —
They make us all the beasts we claim.



---------------------



****** Zombie Box

Live on air — from lies comes kefir,
Fermented in this poisoned brew.
A broken world, where satyrs sneer,
Spreading Darkness, fascism too.

CowID’s mess — blood’s filthy stain!
War unleashed with awful ease.
Lies stir fools to **** again,
Fuel the rage and break the peace.

Just a lie — the only change —
Fools obey the savage call.
Drive the *******, insane range —
A mindless pawn will **** his all.



---------------------



Lies brew war — fools heed the call,
Mindless slaves will **** us all.


---------------------



Broadcast lies, ignite the hate,
Zombies march to doom and fate.



---------------------



Cheburek from Cheburashka

Cheburek made from Cheburashka —
That’s the latest “film” they sell:
Freaks strike hard, no miss, no flash,
Dragging people straight to Hell.

Newsfeed first, then movie show —
Dumbing down in perfect rows.
Add the “school,” they bind the herd —
Poison served with every word.

Into Cheburek’s cursed mix
They now add a darker fix.
Herd’s out — now bugs will crawl instead,
Exterminate what’s left, they said.

Easier than sheep who buy
The CowID’s sick lie.
Everywhere the genocide,
This film’s just shame and ash — denied.




---------------------



Dehumanization

Beasts drown in a sea of lies—
Where is man?
Is justice dead?
No. The age is banned.

Quiet genocide—
No punishment here.
The wise grow bored—
It’s madness severe.

From despair,
One might just die.
This hellish state,
Too grim to deny.

Beasts in the lying sea—
Count the wise few.
Faces of Satan,
Forget honor too.

Conscience and mercy—
The world’s end is near.
Lies, numbness, fear,
And stench—the final frontier.



---------------------


The Gift of Doubt

The gift of doubt—a higher gift,
Though softer still its silent lift.
Around, the zombified abide,
Judas fools who meekly hide.

And where, for those with gifted minds,
Among the shadows, lies, and blinds—
Total lies, fascist disease,
Idiot fools who barely seize?

Step boldly inward—only there
Will doubt’s true power clear the air.
Not vanity you'll strengthen then,
But break the lies and save your ken.



---------------------



The Gift of Doubt

Doubt’s a gift from heights above,
Whispered soft, but forged in love.
Zombies roam, and Judas’ ****,
Crawling, blind, and beating drum.

Where for minds that break the chains
Of total lies and fascist pains—
Idiots numb and fascist drones,
Trapped inside their plastic zones.

Push inside—face doubt’s fierce fire,
Shatter lies, burn false desire.
Not your ego’s hollow shield—
But your soul that fights, won’t yield.



---------------------


The Gift of Doubt

Doubt’s no sweet, soft lullaby —
It’s fire blazing in the sky.
Zombies crawl, and Judas’ spawn,
Filth that serves the devil’s dawn.

Where the gifted dare to fight
In the maze of lies and blight—
Fascists, idiots, their slaves,
Trapped inside their shallow graves.

Throw away your coward’s mask!
Doubt will tear their poison’s task.
Not your ego’s weak defense—
But your soul’s fierce reckoning, tense.

Fight the rot, destroy the lies,
Raise your spirit, make it rise!
Only through this brutal test
Can you save what’s still expressed.




---------------------



The Gift of Doubt

Doubt means little if your mind
Is a mess, confused, confined —
To dig deep here in this Hell,
Not just shrug and nod, but dwell.

Here you’re just a clueless pawn:
Breed and trust, keep chomping on,
Feeding evil, making strong
What will break you all along.

Doubt you guard with clear-cut thought —
Saving souls too oft forgot
In this Hell of half-wits’ reign,
Clutching skins and fear of pain.

They’ll survive, but copies spawn,
Generation after dawn,
Bowing low before the Dark,
Feeding beasts who leave their mark.



---------------------



Odes and Sickly Sweet

The text demands its context tight.
When all around’s a Hellish night,
The beast who writes those odes in sight —
Is traitor, freak, corrupt blight.

A dark delusion, idiots rife,
In this thick fog, they breed like strife.
If you write for ****’s delight,
You’re not just dirt — you feed the blight.

The Spirit’s people fade and fall,
Yet all we hear is siren’s call.
The media’s cruel goal is clear:
To drown out truth, choke every ear.

These fiends have mastered lies with ease,
With “cheerful” masks that aim to please—
A madhouse full of forced delight,
Where madness dances day and night.

But soon this circus will collapse,
Discarded with those selling traps—
Their “cheer” and odes, their hollow style,
Will vanish in the flame’s cold pile.




---------------------



Odes and Sickly Sweet Lies

The text demands a brutal frame—
When Hell itself surrounds the game,
The filthy beast who pens those odes
Is enemy, freak, sold-out toads.

A nightmare fog, morons abound,
In this **** swamp, they breed and drown.
Write for these vermin? You’re not just ****—
You’re traitor ****, a plague that’s lit.

The Spirit dies, crushed in the dirt,
While all we get’s a screeching hurt.
Media vultures choke the air,
To silence truth, spread poison there.

These fiends perfected lies so slick,
With fake “cheer” to numb and trick—
A madhouse thriving on deceit,
Where madness grins, a sickening feat.

But soon the whole **** circus falls,
With sellout snakes behind its walls.
Their fake “joy” and sickly songs—
Reduced to ashes where they belong.




---------------------



Don’t Cross the Line!

Face Death alone—
Only Death be trusted.
The moment of dying weighs the whole,
If you serve Lies, hardened and rusted—
Then Satan is your king and god.

If with your last
You fought to create—
You’ll see the Light
At misfortune’s gate.

And only Death
Reflects it all:
Here’s a maze of shadows,
A devil’s call.
Rot has gnawed
What’s left inside.

Hold your line,
Don’t slip and slide:
A fall to Hell—
The fate of the vile.

The soul will see
That boundary clear.
No mind can grasp it—
That’s why you fear.



---------------------



Abomination

Water spirits, forest fiends — just myths and lies,
But worse than fairy tales where nightmare lies.
Monsters ruling humans through their wicked schemes,
Spreading vile chaos, shattering dreams.

These SNAKES hide in shadows, their hands drip with crime,
Using fools as weapons, broken fools in time—
Who sold out their homeland, their mind and their pride,
Turned into beasts, and forever died.

This filthy ****, this traitor’s breed, will fall,
No soul remains—they crawl like fleas on all.
And that loud-mouth ****, a robber and a clown,
Is just a child before them—pathetic, broken down.




---------------------



"The Right to Speak"

No shout returns,
No echo burns...
Will you just bow,
Refuse to fight somehow?
Pure *******, see!
A voice in emptiness—
The right to speak
Now cleaves no less...




---------------------



"The Right to Speak"

No cry will answer,
No sound will stir...
Just bow your head,
Don’t fight, stay dead?
*******, pure and cold!
A voice lost in the void—
The right to speak
By tyrants toyed.




---------------------



Atomic Nature of Society

The devil hides within the details:
This world’s “atomic” — split and torn,
An ego cycle, doomed to wail,
In shattered joys, alone, forlorn.

Division cuts so deep and wide —
What’s left to split? Just fragments small.
“Atomic” breakdowns multiply,
**** every soul — alone they fall.

**** them with lies, with fear’s tight grip,
If you’re enlisted in that horde.
“Atomic dust” slips through your grip,
Control is easy—nothing more.

The devil lurks within the cracks.
Fake science drowns inside the lies.
The forecast? Fatal — nothing lacks:
A “scholar” now is just disguised.




---------------------



Atomic Society

The devil’s in the tiny cracks:
This world is broken, split, and torn.
Ego spins in endless tracks,
In hollow joys, alone, forlorn.

Divide to **** — that’s all they do.
“Atomic dust” makes slaves obey.
Lie and scare — it’s nothing new,
Easy to control the prey.

The devil thrives in details small.
Fake science sinks, the fools comply.
The end is near — the final call:
A scholar’s just a madman’s lie.




---------------------



No Holds

To step in Poetry — like boarding Titanic,
Last-minute ticket — the plunge is frantic.
The world’s soon doomed to Hell’s abyss,
No need for verse if life’s amiss.

The weak just swallow fairy tales,
Want sugar-coated, safe details.
To write true lines feels wasted, blind —
But if it’s yours, don’t fall behind.

Time’s running out — no time to slack,
Push forward hard, no turning back.
So much lost work, all turned to dust,
The world will end — in lies and rust.

To join Art’s ship? — the doors are closed,
No seats remain, it’s all imposed.
Only fools soothe feelings cheap,
Chasing dreams that poison, creep.

Let Poetry flood your veins,
No matter what the cost or pains.
Write raw, unchained — your mind’s delight,
A fierce balm for soul and fight.




---------------------



"Land of Advice"

Giving tips
To those deranged —
A pointless grind,
No sense arranged.
Just drop it —
It’s not your fight,
To step once more
On nonsense’s spite.

Results are nil,
Problems weigh tons,
Advice to fools —
Lost battles, none.



---------------------



False Faiths, or Simple Fear Exploitation

If cheap deceit on death’s dark fear
Didn’t bait the fools so near,
Even sheep would shut their ears —
But soul-trappers thrive on tears.

They sell you life beyond the grave,
Rules and sludge to keep you slave.
In the valley chains grow tight —
Stupid logs believe in fright.




---------------------



False Gods and Fearmongers

Cheap lies feed on death’s dark dread —
Even sheep would close their heads.
But scavengers of broken souls
Trap the weak in filthy roles.

They sell you "life" beyond the grave,
Chains of sludge to make you slave.
In that pit, the dumb remain —
Faith in fear, their only chain.




---------------------



False Religions, or Cheap Fear Exploitation

Don’t let cheap conmen feed your death-freak fears,
Even dumb-*** sheep wouldn’t lend their ears.
Soul-**** creeps hunting scraps from weak and small,
Selling “immortality” — a ******* stall.

Their sludge and rules just chain you to the pit,
Slavery in the Valley, where the fools all sit.
They worship fear, these worthless **** and clods,
Feeding lies, enslaving minds, betraying gods.




---------------------



“Rare Bird Flies to Mid-Dnipro,” or About My Book

A rare bird flies
To mid-Dnipro’s flow;
Not fool enough
To miss the whole.
No cause to stay
In depths of lies —
Fight falsehood’s sway,
And dare to rise!

Creation’s sword,
A battle’s light,
Song’s final chord —
Man dies upright.




---------------------



False Religions

Dogma’s twisted games
Grow mossy lies,
Like a crude enema—
Clogs up your mind.

You’ll be a fool
If you buy their trash.
Trust only your soul—
In lies, you won’t crash.



---------------------



Dreams and Fables

Dreams and fables —
“Consciousness” defined.
“Life” just follows
The script assigned.

Only few have
Passed beyond the show.
But the “fairy tale” marches —
Forward! — into the void below!




---------------------



Dreams and Fables

Dreams and lies, the mind’s dead cage,
“Consciousness” just a staged-up rage.
Life’s a puppet, strings controlled,
Reality a script they sold.

Few break free from this sick farce,
While the herd just marches sparse —
Straight to nothing, blind and dumb,
Into void where all is numb.




---------------------



Dreams and Fables

Dreams and lies, the mind’s own jail,
“Consciousness” — a poisoned tale.
Life’s a scripted, sick façade,
Truth’s drowned out by endless fraud.

Only few escape the shame,
Most stay locked inside the game.
Chasing ghosts to empty hell,
Doomed to rot inside their shell.




---------------------



Dreams and Fairy Tales

Dreams and fairy tales — the mind’s cruel joke,
“Consciousness” trapped in a scripted smoke.
Life’s a puppet show, a sick parade,
Reality’s just a masquerade.

Only few break free, cut through the lies,
While fools still chase their hollow skies.
That “fairy tale” drags on — a deadly pit,
Marching forward… into endless ****.




---------------------


Sort of "Virusology"

Charlatans with glib verbosity
Preach their viral fantasy —
Pathetic-minded monstrosity,
Pure and plain obscenity.

Poison cells and claim “infection,”
Babble nonsense, smug and loud —
This is death for real detection,
Science buried in a shroud.

No control tests — that’s their fashion.
****, it’s rotten to the core!
Slaves in lab coats, stripped of passion,
Arrogant, corrupt, and sore.

Lanka ran the proper trial,
Crushed their garbage, proved it fake —
Where’s the press? A deep denial.
Silence. Bought. For profit's sake.

This alone condemns completely
All satanic, vile deceit.
Silent now? Then watch them neatly
Shove more "virus" up your seat.




---------------------



1.
No control, no truth — just lies,
And "the virus" multiplies.

2.
Fake the test — then sell the cure,
Science ***** to serve the lure.

3.
They poison cells, then preach decay —
Hell applauds. Truth walks away.

4.
No trials. No press. Just dread.
Their virus lives — in your head.




---------------------



An Integrated Mind

The integrated mind —
Where feelings have no reign.
Intuition leads the climb,
Thoughts rise in her domain.

And reason, once the throne
Of logic cold and grand,
Now serves the soul alone,
Obeying her command.

But note — it’s Spirit’s light
That rules through soul’s pure flame.
True vision isn’t sight —
And “hearing” bears no name,

But turns the ear within.
Just listen to the Soul —
For only she can spin
The thread that makes you whole.



---------------------




1.
True thought begins when reason kneels
And Soul alone interprets feels.

2.
The mind ascends when heart is still,
And Spirit bends the thought to will.

3.
Not eyes, but Soul begins to see —
And logic serves in mystery.

4.
Hear not the noise — go deep inside.
The Soul is where the truths reside.




---------------------



Animal Farm Rebooted

Yee-haw! Go herd your filthy swine,
Feed *****, sheep — and drug them blind.
Pour poison into every trough,
Then set the goats to rule the kind.

Let ******* crush the keen and quick,
Fulfill their quotas, pound the weak,
Install a reign of fear and chains —
Let cattle tremble when they speak.

Then shoot them up with branded brew,
And test the yield, assess the loss.
Then wipe the yard and start anew —
A fresh injection. Same old boss.




---------------------



They shot the herd to test control,
Then changed the drug — not the role.



---------------------



1.
They drug the herd, reset the pen —
Then do it all again... again.

2.
The goat’s in charge, the pigs applaud —
Obedience becomes their god.

3.
New poison, same deceitful creed —
Just different needles for the feed.

4.
They rule with fear and branded lies —
And call it care while livestock dies.




---------------------



Attack!

The ***** horde begins to charge —
Just feed them lies, it’s not that hard.
A Führer-spawned deceitful farce
Now sends them dying by the yard.

For ******* smeared across their brains,
They march — obedient and proud.
While puppet-masters count the gains
And plan to thin the herd out loud.

The liars' tools obey with glee,
They’ll **** or die without a thought.
A single lie is tyranny —
And that's the only thing they’re taught.

They trust, comply, repeat the plot,
Like CowID — the grand parade.
The mind dissolves. The soul is not.
And Spirit’s fire… begins to fade.




---------------------



Burn the mind and blind the eyes —
Then rule the herd with sacred lies.



---------------------



Simplicity and Peace

The poet’s life is plain —
As long as songs remain.
But once the song is done,
Die calmly, fearing none.



---------------------



1.
He sang — then met the end.
No fear. No need to bend.

2.
The song complete — the soul released,
He faced the dark in quiet peace.

3.
No crown, no chains, no fight —
Just silence. And the night.




---------------------



Non-Action

"The pleasure of having is not worth the pain of getting."
— Jean-Jacques Rousseau



To have — that pleasure fools pursue,
And chase until their days are through.
Like squirrels trapped in spinning wheels,
They never grasp what silence feels —

Not till death begins to near.
Measure life by what stays clear:
By non-action, deep and true —
If knowledge is your guide and shield from lies and rue.




---------------------



To have is never worth the fight —
Know stillness. That alone is light.



---------------------



Armageddon

Walk ecstatic, sharp, and clear —
Cast away the lies and fear.
Things are dire, truth is thin —
So let intuition in.

Fascist waves and mass disease,
Genocides in white IDs.
Morons rule in every zone —
See through Spirit’s prism stone.

Molded thoughts are dead and gone.
And when flames of war are on,
When the world is torn and split —
Purge the fear. Don't bow. Commit.

Face the horror, bold and bright,
Though it cycles, masks as right.
This disgrace repeats again —
Here, “the god” is Satan’s name.



---------------------



Satan wears the godly cloak —
Spits out death and calls it hope.
If you see — then stand and burn.
This dark cycle must not turn.




---------------------



The Finish

To coast “on autopilot” down,
Till all your troubles wear and drown —
And break apart at finish line,
No torment left, no harsh design.



---------------------


The Finish

Coast easy, no more fight,
Crash at end — no fear, no plight.




---------------------



1.
Glide to end without a scream —
No more battles, just a dream.

2.
Drift and break with quiet grace —
No regrets to trace.

3.
Finish line — no fight, no cries,
Just the calm of last goodbyes.



---------------------



A Dog’s Life

Like dogs who wag their tails in line,
Ready to serve each harsh command,
You’ll find a “heaven” so divine —
Where “Fetch!” becomes the master’s brand.

That worship soon will be your fate,
A final day of dark control.
When evil claims the bowing state —
And bends the spirit, breaks the soul.



---------------------



A Dog’s Life

Wag your tail and obey the call —
Bow to evil, lose it all.



---------------------



Alienation

Unyielding stance, estranged from all,
To Pure alone you heed the call:
A spotless world — or play the fool,
No middle ground, no easy rule.

Only creation’s sacred fire
Surpasses mere desire.
Take up that path — the price is grave:
Alive in grave, none can save.

The dead surround, infest the scene,
Submit — and you become obscene.
Cast off the lies, walk deep within,
To Light the only way to win.

Light’s inside, not out in sight.
To grasp this truth, endure the fight —
You must be born for such a plight:
Reborn in Hell’s mad endless night.




---------------------



Alienation

Stand alone — embrace the pure.
Or be fooled, lost and obscure.

---

Creation’s path means living death —
Alive in grave, betrayed by breath.

---

Dead surround, obey — you’re ****.
Truth is light — no place for some.

---

Born for madness, hell inside,
Only fools run from that ride.




---------------------



Twist and Crush!

Twist always, twist everywhere,
Spread fear and lies, poison the air.
Keep slaves tight, the leash is thin —
No struggle here, just cheat and win.

Lie thrice over, cage the sharp,
Strike the weak, tear them apart.
Divide and conquer — that’s the art,
Torture fear, not pain, to start.

Embrace the world with choking dread,
Turn all to dust where fear has spread.
When all believe and run in fright —
Control is gained, it’s just that slight.




---------------------



Twist and Crush

Twist, twist, tighten every chain,
Feed the fear, spread lies like rain.

---

Divide the sharp, enslave the weak,
Torture minds — no pain to seek.

---

Fear controls the world, that’s how—
They obey, they break, they bow.
You are Phoenix — light up, burn — Create!
by Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT


1. Exit into the Freedom of Spirit

You break the chains, dissolve the darkened veil,
Beyond the cage where human spirits wail.
The spark ignites inside the boundless sky—
A call for souls to learn again to fly.


2. Birth of the Wind

The breath of cosmos stirs the silent night,
Invisible hands weave threads of light.
From chaos born, the winds begin to dance—
The first pure notes of Spirit’s grand expanse.


3. Doom

Without Creation’s force to guide the hand,
Traditional arts like shadows slowly stand.
In worlds of ugliness, pure acts decay—
Formless, blind, they lose their sacred way.

If no divine spark lights the murky mist,
The formless dark reflects the false and twist.
Doom holds its grip, relentless, unrelieved—
When creation fails, all hope is deceived.

Yet Creation’s force, alive beyond the cage,
Breathes autonomous life beyond the rage.
But bound by chains of fear and habit’s gloom,
It drags the weary steps toward certain doom.

Sacrificed beneath the fascist blade,
Human forms twist, become unholy shade.
Demonic shapes forged from lies and pain—
Hellish craft where truth’s betrayed in vain.

Destruction’s power, alien and cold,
Will lay to waste the rot that took hold.
Swift end approaches as cattle degrade—
Death gives birth; creation’s price is paid.


4. Birth of Order from Chaos

From swirling depths where shadows writhe and twine,
Emerges structure, pattern by design.
A fragile thread spun from the chaos vast—
The birth of order from the ragged past.

But chaos gnaws, a wormhole in the weave,
It tears the fabric that we strive to cleave.
Destruction lurks within the newborn light,
Yet from this war arises new insight.


5. Spark of Synergy

In swirling dance of sparks, the power grows,
Each flame ignites, in synergy it flows.
An ever-growing light in rhythmic flare—
Together rising, tearing through despair.


6. New Perception

A shift in sight, perception’s veil unwound,
Where distant echoes forge a deeper sound.
True links arise when minds and souls align—
Connection born beyond the grasp of time.


7. Creation as Pure Knowledge

Creation stirs within a field of light,
Where knowledge pure dissolves the endless night.
The primal spark that breathes and shapes the whole—
A fusion of the mind and Spirit’s soul.


8. The Resonance

Waves and particles in cosmic dance,
An echo of the grand creative trance.
Resonance weaves through all that is and was,
Uniting form with timeless, pulsing cause.


9. The Call Home

From tangled depths a distant signal calls,
A beacon shining past the darkest walls.
For those attuned, a path begins to gleam—
A way back home beyond the endless dream.


10. A Call from Somewhere Bright and Clear

Voices rise from realms of crystal air,
Inviting those who dare to venture there.
In subtle tones, the future’s light is spun—
A journey to become, to be as one.


11. The Phoenix Pulse

You are the pulse, the breath of fiery flame,
The burning heart that sings creation’s name.
Ignite, consume, renew in endless flight—
Become the Phoenix in eternal light.

Like drops that merge into the ocean’s whole,
You find yourself within the endless soul.
Together bound, one with the cosmic sea—
In fiery birth, you are eternally free.
Next page