So-Called Scientists

Newton’s laws won’t light the way,
Second’s just a dull cliché.
Force? An abstract, crude distortion,
Spreading lies in full proportion.

Pseudoscience rots the brain,
Meant for fools—its prime domain.
Faith, not thought, they take as guiding,
Thus, to Hell, the doors swing wider.

Hell seeps in through half-truths, fables,
Smashing Truth beneath its tables.
Spirit's wiped from all their lore—
"Knowledge" fit for flies and more.

Spirit forms the world's foundation,
Science sells it for damnation.
Fear and nonsense shape their quota—
Just like CowID... their own quota.


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We serve for gold, with **** we mingle,
Yet fear alone drives all our ways.
The soulless lords need slaves to swindle,
While "God’s own serf" finds hell his praise.



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Cain and Abel, Magdalene—
Tales for fools, a dull routine.
Want some horror? Here you go:
Christ’s own blood in wine will flow...



--- Total 3 poems. ---

Dark intrigues behind the curtain—
Fear will make the chains more certain.
Keep the masses dull and hollow,
Though they’re fools with minds so shallow.

Plenty work for scheming swine—
Plots are "jokes," yet right on time:
Spin them up through viral chatter,
Memes will make them spread and scatter.

Clowns are fools, absurd and broken;
Some are corpses left unspoken—
Senile minds in dim decay,
Others lost in bluer sway.

Evil rises, takes its course,
Culling weaklings at the source.
This is what we breed and cherish—
Shall we thrive, or shall we perish?..

"Look deep inside yourself—turn your gaze away
From the world around you; inward let it stay.
This is the first demand that wisdom makes,"
Said Fichte, as the mind’s first step he stakes.

Even ancient sages claimed the same before.
Trust the world’s half-truths—you will think no more.
Reason turns to riddles if you chase the lie,
Only chasing echoes—phantoms in the sky.

Life’s a dream, unless if you
See beyond the haze.
Wisdom must be daily new—
Else you rot and waste.

Let us sing the Song of Freedom—
Or decay in Hell’s foul kingdom.
Rise, O song, through all creation—
Stop the rot of degradation!

Rot is spreading, Hell is thriving:
On the top—corrupt conniving,
At the base—souls crushed and broken,
Tortured, shackled, left unspoken.

Pain like this leaves scars forever.
Odds are slim, but still—endeavor!
Through the struggle, save your spirit—
Dare to hear it—filth or near it!

Mind beneath the Soul must follow,
Then creation flows unhollowed,
Like a poem, strong and endless,
Lighting up Hell’s halls of madness.

Few escape—so few are sane,
Dulled in mind and soul profaned,
Prisoners of a world-wide madhouse,
Not a dream—no waking past now.

Think of lockdowns, masks, restrictions,
All their brutal false convictions.
Think it’s over? Worse is coming
If the herd won’t judge the cunning.

Yet the odds are close to zero.
Darkness crushes. One last hero?
Souls are dying. Doomsday marches—
Hell expands as fire arches.

Flames will cleanse, and fools will gather,
Built again to rot and wither,
Sinking deeper in deception,
Strengthening their own damnation.

Freedom’s few stand separated,
Scattered, lost, indoctrinated.
Never once uniting truly—
Weak in spirit, thinking poorly.

Harsh? Too much? Then shut your ears!
Song of Freedom knows no fears.
Drop the words—begin the action,
Burn the lies and build new factions!

Find your tribe—awake the sleeping!
Though they're few, let them be breathing,
Let them stand and not be broken,
Let them rise with deeds outspoken!

Act with courage—seek new measures!
Rotten hands corrupt all treasures.
New must cut through old illusions,
Sharp and bold with no confusions!

Sing the Song of Freedom, fearless!
Lone you stand, yet Light is peerless.
Let the Spirit clear the passage,
Warm your Soul and cleanse the damage.

And you’ll find your choir resounding!
Never bow—no fate’s confounding!
Be the truth, no self-deception,
Even trapped in Hell’s direction.

Grow in kindness, grow in power—
Break the chains this very hour!
Light and Freedom—perform this hit!
Move! The time is now—go do it!

The teachers preach, the fools obey,
They drill and cram the mind away.
And out the school doors, dull and meek,
The broken herd forgets to think.

The dark delights in fear and lies,
In blind, obedient, hollow eyes.
What more is left when, on the block,
Stand twisted souls in lifeless flocks?

To crush The Spirit—final goal,
To strip the fire from the soul.
Then, "happiness" at last they’ll find—
As cattle, penned and reassigned.

Their joy? A leash that’s not so tight,
A master’s hand that whips them light.
And kindness? Merely swapped away
For chains they wear without dismay.

Brief is the joy in the struggle and strain,
If you refuse to descend into shame.
Downward through darkness, all generations
March, having buried their higher ambitions.

Creeping evil spreads its blight,
Dulls the masses, kills their sight,
Rules with cunning, rules with lies,
Crushing those who dare be wise.

Fools obey and bow to sin,
Chasing "joy" through filth within.
Darkness laughs—its goal is met,
Dragging all through mire and sweat.

Madness paves a twisted way,
Guiding hordes to slow decay.
Blind, they march through shadowed gates,
Unaware of doomed fates.

Tyranny will mask its name,
Dressed in order, crowned in flame.
With a leash of steel and code,
You will serve or bear the load.

Yet destruction breaks the chain,
Fire purges, cleanses pain.
Still, when ashes cool at last,
Hell is waiting—just recast.

Hell returns in different guise,
Feeding off the blind and wise.
For the meek accept their chains,
And the liars play their games.