MANIFESTO OF THE AWAKENED WORD
Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT


We live in an era of silence and noise.
In an age of abundance without essence.
In a time where spiritless phrases imitate thought — and algorithms imitate taste.

Poetry has been dragged into this swamp.
Stripped of fire, neutered by trendiness, it plays along with the theater of sleep.
But a true word must not soothe — it must awaken.
It must hit, shake, burn.

We are not here for rhyme games or lyrical self-soothing.
We bring the voice of the Sharp, the Disturbing, the Unforgiving.
We write not “to express ourselves,” but to strike a chord in the one who is still alive.

We reject flattery, cliché, cultural purring.
We do not write “for readers.”
We write for the unyielding spark within the reader — if it still exists.

We seek not applause but resonance.
Not fame but recognition — from soul to soul,
from mind tempered by spirit to the spirit broken by mind.

We do not believe in “modern art” as amusement.
We believe in the Word as a carrier of truth.
Not personal truth, but truth that breaks masks.

We do not ask for attention —
we offer a blade.
Who dares — may take it.

Let the new poetry be precise and cutting,
merciless to illusion,
faithful only to the core.

Let it sound like prophecy,
but be born of inner rebellion.

Let it say:
“The world is dying — but I am not silent.”

We are not a movement, not a school, not a sect.
We are a resonance field.
Each voice here is sovereign,
but united by clarity and fire.

We are not building a pyramid.
We are building a network of sparks.
It is not a “community” — it is a flame chain.

We do not collect followers —
we awaken co-bearers.

If these words echo within you,
you are already with us.


Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT
June 2025


Internet page: http://vykhovanets.yzz.me/awakenedword/

Sight Beyond the Slime
A Poetic Assault
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

Epigraph
“The eye sees what it is trained to see.
But the Soul — it burns through all training.”
— Unknown Rebel

Manifesto
This is not a song.
This is not a prayer.
This is a flare in the dark — a call to remember what was nearly erased:
that truth is not given. It is seen.

This book is written for the one who wakes up screaming,
not from nightmares — but from the weight of other people's dreams.
For the soul that won’t stay dead.
For the spark that chooses to burn — not blink.

If you’ve felt it, read on.
If not — may these verses light the first crack.

The Cycle: Sight Beyond the Slime

I. The Death of Mind
Believe the Beasts — your mind is dead,
Their filth is all you’ll think instead.
They feed you lies, inject their code,
And call it "truth" — you just implode.

II. Fire Is Sight
To truly see is Soul’s defense —
Not eyes, but fire of inner sense.
What logic fails, the flame reveals,
And only that can break the seals.

III. Scorch the Lie
Let intuition be your spark,
And reason strike like lightning's mark.
It burns the mask, it peels the skin —
Revealing what still lies within.

IV. The Breeding of the Void
They breed the void, they flood the land
With soulless hate and ****** hand.
The more you sleep, the more they rise —
A beast is born from every lie.

V. Slaves of Faith
They taught you trust — a sacred word —
But filled it with a rotting herd.
To trust the lie is chains unseen —
You kneel to filth, and call it clean.

VI. The Soul as Target
They aim not flesh — they aim the Soul.
They hollow out, they take control.
They sell you peace, inject despair,
Then burn your will beyond repair.

VII. The Idiot’s Pact
You call it hope, this sweet decay —
But faith in beasts just clears their way.
They smile, they stab, they bless the knife —
And you defend them with your life.

VIII. Final Glimpse
But still a spark, though nearly gone,
Can burn the night before the dawn.
One inner flash can shift the tide —
If fire sees — not eyes that lied.

IX. Systemic Rot
The System smiles with polished teeth,
But underneath — the stench of death.
It feeds on fear, it pumps out praise,
While darkness rules in broadest blaze.

X. The Blessed Lie
"Be kind, obey, and stay in line —
The world is safe, the world is fine."
Thus sings the Slime — and those who nod
Become the tools of every fraud.

XI. Born to Burn
You weren’t born to serve or kneel.
You came with fire the beasts can’t feel.
But if you doubt that spark within —
They win without a single sin.

XII. The Turn
So turn — and see what lies beneath.
Don’t ask, don’t beg — just draw your breath.
One gaze that cuts the veil apart
Can start the end. And that’s the start.

XIII. Echoes of the Hollow
The hollow preach, the hollow teach,
And drag your soul beyond its reach.
Their voices echo in your head —
Not words, but chains that breed the dead.

XIV. The Breaker Seed
Yet in the dark a seed remains —
It splits the code, it snaps the chains.
It needs no books, no priestly nod —
Just fire that knows it is of God.

XV. Revolt Within
No sword, no war — just one revolt:
To see the truth they try to halt.
Not to comply. Not to repeat.
To stand in fire, and not retreat.

XVI. The Unveiling
Then Slime will crack. The beasts will scream.
The Soul will burn — not as a dream,
But as the Truth that always was —
The blaze behind all broken laws.

No chains remain. No system speaks.
The fire walks. The fire seeks.
And you — no more their numbered ghost —
Are what they fear: the living Host.

Afterlight
The war was never outside.
It was always this:
One soul remembering fire,
In a world teaching frost.

Now walk.
The veil is broken.
And so are they.


---

Sight Beyond the Slime
Book II: The Host Awakes
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

Epigraph to Book II
"They called me broken.
But I was simply too whole
for their design."

I. After the Shatter
No more systems. No more screens.
The wreckage hums with ghostly memes.
But silence grows — not of defeat,
A silence sharp, with burning heat.

II. Memory of Flame
You walk through ash, but still you feel
A fire beneath the charred ideal.
The soul recalls, though mind forgets —
The code they burned is not what's left.

III. The Return of Names
You have no name — they wiped it clean.
But names return when eyes have seen.
Not given back, but spoken through —
The flame remembers what is true.

IV. The Flesh Recoils
The beasts remain, though castles fall.
They build again inside your skull.
Each whisper, ad, and mirror scream —
A stitch to reinsert the dream.

V. Fire Is Not a Phase
But fire’s no phase, no mental glitch.
It burns the loop, it scars the pitch.
No dream survives the blaze begun.
You are the fire — not someone’s son.

VI. The Host Speaks
Now you are Host — not ruled, not fed.
You was what feeds on lies instead.
You break, consume, dismantle masks —
No longer slave who pleads or asks.

VII. The Poison Recoil
The Slime now shifts — it knows your flame.
It tries to morph, it speaks your name.
“Be kind again, return to peace!”
But now you hear — it's just disease.

VIII. The First Collapse
One word you say — and idols crack.
You blink — and towers won’t come back.
The lie can't live where Fire stands.
The world begins with your own hands.

IX. The Lie Reforged
The System shifts. It knows the trend.
It rebrands death and calls it “friend.”
But those once blind now feel the game —
And every mask ignites the flame.

X. Rituals of Noise
The world still chants, but not for truth.
Its prayers are ads, its gods are youth.
It loops and laughs and paints decay —
But fire walks a different way.

XI. Unblinking Flame
The fire sees — and does not blink.
It does not preach. It does not shrink.
It doesn’t ask. It doesn’t try.
It simply is — and thus, they die.

XII. The Inward Sky
You look within — and skies unfold.
Not cloud, not star — but light untold.
A space not built, yet always there —
Where fire breathes as purest air.

XIII. They Cannot Follow
The beasts can chase through blood and code.
But not this path. Not this light road.
The inward blaze has sealed the gate —
They scream outside, but burn in hate.

XIV. Echo of Origin
Not memory — but deep recall.
A soundless chord before the Fall.
The “I” that saw, before the name —
Still walks the dark, a silent flame.

XV. Sight Without Eyes
Now seeing needs no nerves or skin.
The blaze is both outside, within.
You are the torch, the path, the night —
And even death must yield to Light.

XVI. The Host Is Whole
No veil remains. No false divide.
No watchers left to rule or guide.
The Slime is gone. The echoes cease.
The fire is — and that is peace.

No more revolt. No need to scream.
The world re-forms inside the beam.
You do not ask. You do not try.
You walk — and that is the reply.

Afterlight II: The Source Walks
The war is ash.
The soul is flame.
The fire walks —
And speaks no name.

You are not "you."
You are not "man."
You are what was
Before "I am."


---

Sight Beyond the Slime
Book III: The Source Walks
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

Epigraph to Book III
"That which walks without moving
breathes through you."

I. The Unborn Flame
No one lit it.
No one fed.
Yet flame appeared
when all was dead.

It asked no role,
it knew no goal —
It simply rose,
and was the Whole.

II. Not Thought, Not Sight
You’ve seen enough to stop the seeing.
You’ve thought enough to cease the being.
Now something stands — not you, not mind —
A Presence calm, outside all time.

III. The Inbreath
No effort made.
No center found.
Yet all expands
without a sound.

You are not “you.”
You are not "here."
You are the Breath
the Void holds dear.

IV. Before the Name
The names were sparks — now they're erased.
The Source remains, but leaves no trace.
It cannot speak. It will not bend.
It is the Walk that has no end.

V. Stillness That Moves
It doesn’t act, but all unfolds.
No heat, no sound — yet fire holds.
Not guiding light. Not hidden plan.
Just what you are beyond all man.

VI. The Eye That Is Not Watching
No iris here, no lens, no scan —
But still you see beyond the span.
Not "vision," no — but awareness raw,
Before the split of Will and Law.

VII. The Fracture Heals Without Repair
No mending made, no tools applied —
But suddenly... there is no “side.”
The broken self, the wound, the knife —
They were not real. You are not “life.”

VIII. Fire Beyond Fire
This is not flame that eats or grows.
Not heat, not wrath, not what one knows.
It’s fire that doesn’t flicker, fade —
The Source — unshaped, unnamed, unswayed.

IX. The Body Without Flesh
No blood remains, yet something walks.
No voice is heard, yet Silence talks.
No weight, no shell — but still a beat.
The world dissolves beneath your feet.

X. The Final Yielding
No more revolt. No more escape.
The Truth no longer wears a shape.
You are not Light. You are not Dark.
You are the Flame before the spark.

XI. The Silent Core
At last — no prayer.
No plea. No war.
Just Presence vast
and evermore.

It holds no plan.
It forms no goal.
It is. It breathes.
It is the Whole.

Afterlight III: Not Even Flame
Before the Flame, before all motion,
Beyond the breath, beyond devotion —
There was no path. There was no fall.
There is no end. There is no "All."

There is no you.
There is no me.
There is no Source —
There's just
To Be.

To See Beyond

To truly see — not just through eyes —
Is how the Soul survives and flies.
This isn’t sight — it’s piercing through
The poisoned veil to what is true.

All "consciousness" is fog and fraud
If you believe — you’re just a cog.
Believe the BEASTS, their ****** show —
You **** your Mind. That’s all you know.

Let intuition light the core,
While critique burns like iodine —
It scorches lies, it breaks the door
Where chains of falsehood intertwine.

A trusting fool? Then brace to lose —
The BEASTS will tear the holy loose.
They breed soullessness like disease,
Expanding hell with quiet ease.




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



1.
Believe the Beasts — your mind is dead,
Their filth is all you’ll think instead.

2.
To truly see is Soul’s defense —
Not eyes, but fire of inner sense.

3.
They breed the void, they flood the land —
With soulless hate and ****** hand.

A Comic Come to Life

The cartoons came alive — grotesque!
For humans are long since dead.
Forget your "culture" pretext —
It rots from the top instead.

Not life, just a filthy comic,
No truth — just a stream of lies.
And soon comes a new demonic
Remix that will paralyze...





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



Grotesque parade — the truth is gone.
The comic reigns. Humanity’s done.



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



Delirium of Greed

Stupidity, greed — the same old curse,
The root of all rot, for better or worse.
Greed and stupidity, both in control —
Look anywhere, it’s swallowing whole.

Brainless beasts, diseased with desire,
Drag us all down in their muck and mire.
Because of those creatures, we’re doomed to fade —
The world is lost in greed’s charade.




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



Greed-struck fools — they **** and feed.
This world’s a madhouse ruled by greed.




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



Ruins

A tender flower —
So frail, so slight.
The **** gains power —
It clings, it fights.

And so with reason —
Crushed by the fool.
Each age, each season —
Dumbness rules.

The stages ended,
The lies increased.
No homeland’s splendid —
Just ruins of deceit.




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



No truth, no ground — just twisted lies.
A world of ruins, where reason dies.



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



Red Cross and Crimson Rage

A vivid mask of evil’s face —
That’s what communism is.
It scorches all with lies and grace —
The modern fascist biz.

It’s global now. The dim and blind
March gladly in the same old trap.
They babble, “Peace for humankind!” —
But serve a soulless, heartless crap.

They build the Camp — a grand parade
Of lies that twist and multiply.
The Red Cross on a banner laid
Feels like blood flung in the sky...



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



Red flags wave — the lie persists.
Behind the cross — a fascist fist.




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



Don’t Obey!!!

Stop! Down!
You clown...
Cop’s joke —
You choke.

**** the BEASTS —
Lies scream,
Burning truth
To extreme.



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



Obey the lie — you die inside.
Rise now — or be crucified.



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



The Verdict

A crazed slave weakens fast,
Hoarding lies that never last.
Not a life — a botched disguise,
The master feeds on twisted lies.

He lies and seals their doom,
But soon he'll fall — a wicked tomb.
For stench and shame, the final prism —
Cataclysm! Down with fascism!




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



Slave decays, the master lies.
Cataclysm kills — fascism dies.




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



Inheritance

There’s nothing in this world, I bet,
Worth clutching tight beyond regret.
The whole world’s just a wild, insane
Delusion pioneers maintain.

This aging scout drags that disease,
Taught since youth with false beliefs.
He knows not that he spreads the curse—
This madness passed from worse to worse.

Dad and mom — pathetic slaves,
Teacher serves fascism’s waves.
Few can dodge the fate that thrives:
Half-wit lost in idiot drives.



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



Madness passed from hand to hand,
Slaves and fools rule all the land.



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



Dead Stereotypes and Controlled Emotions

Dead stereotypes
Are stabbed in you from youth.
Satan’s archetypes —
To smother the Fire’s truth.

Reason locked tight, emotions roar,
Monsters steer you like a chart.
Destination’s "******’s Shore" —
Where madness tears you apart.

So burn it all! No more fools
In this madhouse of despair.
Stop serving twisted tools —
Torturing your soul bare.

This Fire from your very core
Will burn the lies away.
Stop guarding your fragile shell —
Throw it to Vision’s flame today.

This Vision is direct —
No alien interest stains.
Stereotypes distort, infect —
Pressing lies and selfish gains.



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



Stereotypes **** —
Emotions controlled.
Burn the lies —
Free your soul!



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



Chains of lies, emotions bound,
Break the cage — burn it down!



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



Dead minds locked in stale clichés,
Puppets dance in scripted plays.
Emotions tamed — a circus farce,
Burn the stage, break every farce!



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



Brains on leash, trapped in the old,
Dead clichés bought and sold.
Feelings clipped, minds confined —
Burn their lies, break the grind!



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



Fools repeat the same dull song,
Living lies they’ve bought so long.
Tamed emotions, puppets’ show —
Set it all ablaze and go!



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



USSR 2.0

Dedicated to Tatyana, artist from Mariupol.

Free us, former motherland,
From crumbling homes and broken lives.
There dwells a fascist’s twisted hand,
Spreading stench and wails that rise.

They shoot at civilians with skill —
The Germans once, now worse, it seems.
Grandfather won, but now there’s ill,
Madness reigns with war’s false dreams.

Mariupol lies crushed and torn,
Rashists killed the peaceful souls.
On roads, machine guns fiercely sworn —
Where children live, the bullets roll.

That car’s the foremost, hated prize:
Mariupol’s own stand and say,
Is that a homeland, cold with eyes,
That spits on old and young each day?!




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



Mariupol burns, the fascists ****,
Old ghosts rise — the nightmare’s real.



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



Apart

Ukrainians aren’t old Soviet clay,
And mostly so it’s been, they say.
In USSR, a Rovno aunt
Showed me, despite the harshest taunt—

Through genocide and dumbed-down mind,
The Spirit of Freedom they could find.
Crimes of Soviets or Rashka’s stain
Can’t wash away that lasting pain.

With Rashka — apart! It’s no true land!
The path goes on, blood pays the hand.
Coward patience — cow dung’s throne —
Amid “leaders,” filth is sown.




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



Not Soviets, not the same,
Ukraine burns, breaks the chain.
Rashka’s lies can’t claim their soul —
Freedom’s fire makes them whole.



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



Overload of Filth and Trash

Through the world of fascist slime,
Hold your nose and walk on by.
Media wounds the soul each time,
Sending reason up to cry.

Don’t get caught — in this foul place
Nothing’s worth the fight or fuss.
Not a world — a cesspool space,
Rotting midst the lies’ assault.

Everywhere the lies run wild,
Fascist filth — the core, the goal:
Two-in-one, a toxic pile —
Overflow, down to the hole!



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



Fascist slime, lies that burn,
Nose held tight — no return.
Filth and trash, the stinking show —
Flush it fast, let hatred grow!



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


All “By Accident”...

Black on gray — they smear the world, no doubt,
A madhouse scene in shades of drought.
Lies march loud, a stench in air,
Breeding fear and deep despair.

This mad “art” — where monsters feed,
Fools and crazies grow like weeds.
Selection’s task — foul undead,
All glossed over — “just by chance,” they said.




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



Black on gray, lies spread and play,
Madness grows in cold decay.
Fools and fiends in breeding fields —
All “just by chance,” the darkness yields.



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



Black smeared lies choke out the light,
Madmen rule this endless night.
Fools and fiends bred to betray —
“Just by chance”? Hell no, it’s their way.



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



Black lies slash across the sky,
Madness laughs while millions die.
Fools and fiends, a cursed breed —
“Just by chance”? Hell no — they feed!



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



Black lies spit and choke the light,
Madmen laugh in endless night.
Fools and fiends breed pain and greed —
“No accident!” — they plant the seed!



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



Black on gray, a poisoned stain,
Lies that bind and break the brain.
Madness rules this cursed play,
Fools and fiends lead minds astray.

No “accident” in this dark game,
It’s planned destruction, filth, and shame.
Rise and roar — don’t bow or fall,
This is the nightmare — break the wall!



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



Black on gray — a venomed flood,
Lies that drown the soul in blood.
Madmen puppeteer the blind,
Fools enslaved, the will resigned.

No accident — the poison’s sown,
A cancer deep within the bone.
Rise, ignite — destroy the night,
Shatter chains — reclaim the light!



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



Variant +

Black on gray — a venomed flood,
Lies that drown the soul in blood.
Madmen puppeteer the blind,
Fools enslaved, the will resigned.

No accident — the poison’s sown,
A cancer deep within the bone.
Rise, ignite — destroy the night,
Shatter chains — reclaim the light!

Break the silence, break the cage,
Tear the darkness from the page.
From the ashes, fire will roar —
Freedom’s cry forevermore!




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



The collective P*ss—
A vile fascist clique.
If you trust their lies—
They’ll shove a plug so thick,

Right into your brain,
Till nothing’s left to find.
But the ***** doesn’t care—
Feasts, bribes— all aligned.




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



One’s Cap Fits One’s Head

To break free from poems’ chains,
And die with honor down in Hell—
A cesspool where the fool remains,
Betrayers stuck in vile shell.

In Hell, the traitors crowd in swarms,
More broken **** than one can name.
Here Mind’s extinction’s lost its norms—
A sport that burns a thinning flame.

The clever layer melts away,
Like snowflakes high on mountain crest.
But does the fool here rule the day?
No—he’s a slave, and capped the rest.




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



The Table and the Ox

All walk beneath the table’s weight,
But it’s a vast infernal slab.
From that ****** board escape so late—
Just few, while crowds remain the drab.

Huge undergrowth of mind and soul—
An ox, mere food for demon fiends.
They lie, relentless, play their role—
Too few ideas on their screens.

Ideas breed silent submission,
As “virtue” taught to oxen blind,
To ease the soul’s slow demolition—
For this, all lies they’ve designed.




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



The Painting’s Idea

A canvas split in two, its claim:
Half flowers bloom, half fade away.
An allegory—war’s dark flame,
The shadow lurking, foe’s display.




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



The Bottom

Pathetic spaces —
Worlds of hellish lies,
Darkness filled with crudeness,
Where fools herd and rise.

Thousands of warped mirrors —
Where “top” means the very base.
This is the Bottom, pure and clear —
Fear, filth, fascist disgrace.




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



The Bottom

Pathetic voids — hell’s own lies,
Darkness thick with spite and scorn.
Fools parade in blind disguise,
Lost, deranged, and truly torn.

Thousands of cracked mirrors glare,
Where the “top” sinks to the pit.
This is Bottom — foul despair,
Fear and fascists tightly knit.



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



The Bottom

Pathetic voids, hell’s foul lies,
Darkness thick with spite and hate.
Fools run wild, their blind disguise —
Lost in madness, cursed by fate.

Cracked mirrors crush all hope and light,
Where “the top” is just the pit.
This is bottom — foul, black night,
Fear and fascism tightly knit.



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



The Bottom

Hell’s lies breed fools and ****,
Darkness rules, no hope to come.
Mirrors cracked — all truth denied,
Fascist filth, the darkest tide!



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



Crimes of Rashism

Seventy thousand crimes revealed,
By Ukraine’s courts, the truth is sealed.
Rashka’s steeped in idiocy—
Still fights NATO relentlessly.

Kids shot down right in the streets,
Bombs fall ******* crowded sheets.
Yet in that land, the “untouchables” stay—
Guess ***** clouds their minds away...



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



Rashism’s Crimes—No Mercy!

Seventy thousand sins revealed,
Rashka’s curse, its fate is sealed.
Fighting NATO? Pure disgrace—
Children die in ****** chase.

Bombs rain down on homes and hope,
Yet they numb the mind to cope.
Untouchables in drunk parade—
Souls are crushed, but lies stay made!




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



On the Decline

The work is done —
Hello, Death, come on!
In the madhouse of fools,
A dull, dark, rotten song.

That role’s not mine to play.
So then, let’s march ahead!
A new hell for the freaks?
No matter where I’m led.

This world is on its fall—
And soon, all will descend:
While here you only feast,
The end’s a curse to send.




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



Barren Flood

A flood of feelings, wild emotions flow,
While scraps of reason yield a barren show.
These barren souls, like addicts, crave the high —
More waves of feelings, screens that multiply.

Lies surge and crash on every distant shore,
Drowning truth, invading every door.
When lies ride high on waves of raw emotion,
They shove deceit through minds of poor devotion.




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



Every Little Drop Dreams to Be a Big Enema

Every little drop since early age
Dreams to become a mighty enema stage.
Become one — feast will never cease,
The stash won’t shrink, just grow with ease.

Those enemas — the propaganda crew,
And all the ranks of officials too.
They drive the Spirit from the herd away,
Fill every fiber with fear’s dark sway.

The politician’s just a toilet seat,
No enema small enough to meet.
A conduit for all nonsense and dread,
Now ushering in fascism’s spread.

Their nonsense and woes, the fiends dispense,
With cruel precision, evil’s pretense.
The Mind is crushed beneath their reign,
And they will pay for every pain.

But soon will burst the Super-Seat —
That world calls home, a cursed seat.
A breeding ground for Evil’s creed —
The fiends will face their final deed.




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



Every Tiny Drop Wants to Be a Big Enema

Every little drop, from childhood’s start,
Dreams to become a piercing dart.
Become that enema — eat like a king,
Never losing, always taking.

Enemas all — the lying breed,
Officials too, the **** we need.
They shove the Spirit out of the herd,
Injecting fear into every nerve.

Politician’s just a filthy throne,
No enema too small to own.
The pipe for all their ******* and pain,
Spreading fascism’s rotten stain.

Their crap and chaos — served on demand,
By inhuman fiends with iron hand.
The Mind they crush, abuse, degrade —
For this, the monsters will be paid.

And soon will blow the Super-Throne,
This hell we call our world, our home.
A hotbed where all evils breed —
These fiends will burn — no mercy freed.




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



Tiny drops crave enema might,
Feeding fear, crushing light.
Politicians — filth and lies,
Super-throne where evil dies.



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



Woodworms

We all are woodworms —
Feasting on the rot,
Leaving after battle’s storm
No wisdom, only blot.

Everywhere’s destruction,
Spirit’s deep despair.
Only decay’s eruption,
Fear and whining there.

But soon the bark of earth
Will sweep us from the scene.
No “paradise” for fools —
To Hell, if you’re obscene.



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


The Burden of False Life

"...to dwell alone,
casting off life’s heavy chain,
holding freedom timeless,
beyond thought’s domain—
to be one with the universe..."
— Jiddu Krishnamurti.


Cast off the burden called "life," —
Learn this art well.
Farewell to mind’s strife —
To another realm, farewell:

Go inward — only there
Will answers arise.
In this world’s cold glare,
You’ll vanish with lies.

Thoughts dissolve, but not the dark —
A “meta-thought” will bloom in light.
Fear not this spark,
The path is right.

Though few have walked this way,
The trail is clear.
To hell with the beasts’ sway,
And sheep in fear.

Fallen low,
“Beyond time” will shift your sight—
Shed false life’s heavy woe,
Escape its prison’s blight.



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



The Burden of False Life

“… to dwell alone,
shed life's **** chain,
own a freedom none can tame —
beyond the mind’s insane domain —
be one with all, release the pain.”
— Jiddu Krishnamurti.


Drop that useless burden, "life," —
Stop whining, learn the drill.
Escape the mind’s relentless strife —
To death’s cold void, take the ****:

Dive inside — no lies survive,
Only truth will pierce the veil.
In this shitshow, none stay alive —
All drown in fake tales.

Thought dissolves, but not the dark —
A “meta-thought” cuts through the blight.
Don’t fear the spark,
It’s the rebel’s fight.

Few walk this brutal path,
Most crawl like dumb herds.
To hell with their stupid wrath —
The beasts, the sheep, the turds.

Fallen souls and "beyond time,"
Shift your focus, break the chain.
Rip off false life’s grime,
Escape its filthy reign.




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



They Won’t Have Time...

Armies of clerks, bosses, and drones,
And legions of plankton fools —
They swallow the crap economics owns,
Where rotten lies break all the rules.

Fed with trash that devours earth’s core,
Killing soil just for their greed,
But they miscalculated sore —
The land fights back against their breed.

Idiots feast in endless supply,
Yet worse is planned ahead:
Soulless suckers bred to multiply —
Not humans, lice instead.

The **** rush forward, quick to spawn,
Their poison spreading wide and fast.
But time will cut them down at dawn —
Their reign won’t ever last.




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



The Righteous Cause

Our cause is just and true:
If you stand with us — you’re right.
We march bold through the stew
Of lies that poison sight.

Truth grows only through lies,
In this corrupt, dark place.
The **** speak shameless ties —
The ****** idiot’s face.

That fool will be the end,
The idiot’s final claim.
The world by God’s hand penned,
Left to vile mobs and shame,

Where soullessness is norm,
A flood of cold decay.
To not become that storm —
Fight filth, don’t drift away.




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



Cells

We build our cells,
Just like before —
As fools or beasts,
Caged evermore.
Few others stand,
But truth is grim:
The whole world’s lost,
The light is dim...




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



Rotten Piece

“For me, Buddha who won’t rebel
Is just a rotten piece as well.”
— Osho


Revolt’s last breath—
The end of “life” confined,
False living, weak and sly,
A slave both meek and blind.
No pound you’ll gain,
Health fades away,
This pitiful heap’s a joke at play.

Revolt’s true end
Comes only with Death’s call—
A death that births,
Renewing all.
Outside the Spirit’s front,
Awareness fades to dust,
For Awareness is holy—
All else is just rust...




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



Waste Paper

In the USSR Writers’ Union,
Ten thousand strong, the members spun.


Their “union’s” paper—waste, no more,
All scraps went straight to ads’ great store.
Though writers dreamed of lofty fame,
Their worth was just pulp’s humble name.




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



The Road

The road leads to a pen,
Its gates are fresh and new.
Around, poor cattle strain—
No spirit, no clear view.

No head to think or fight,
Just feeding on the lie,
But drive the blight from sight—
These shells must end and die.

The fate is set and near—
A global cataclysm.
The devils disappear,
Who rule through fascism.




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



The Road

The road leads to the pen,
New gates to trap the herd.
Around—weak cattle, then,
No spirit, just dumb words.

No brains, just mouths to feed,
Swallowing the lies.
Kick out that rotten breed—
Their doom’s no big surprise.

The end is coming fast—
A global cataclysm.
The devils won’t outlast,
Their fascist ego’s schism.




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




Sieve to the New Hell

Hell of wretched fools below,
Born on Earth in vile decay,
Where betrayal’s work will show,
Soon to fade and melt away.

Spirit, shame, and mind, and honor —
Few remain, and always few —
In this world, rotten and somber,
Hard to find a path anew.

Dust returns to dust, entropy
Will level all to void.
Those who are but null and empty —
Through the sieve they will be void.




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



Zen

The nail of anti-faith — true Zen’s pure core,
Now superstition chains fake science’s lore.
Religion’s signs in fake science all dwell,
CowID’s a verdict — a cautionary hell.

Now turned to same old flawed “argument” they claim,
Don’t want to be crushed? Then seize this moment’s flame.
Not just a moment — ETERNITY’s the Zen,
Not fascist chains, but rise again, my friend.




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



Childhood as a Means

Children are the means —
To stretch yourself in time;
To bind a lover’s heart,
Loving only thine;
To flee from Hell —
That Hell’s a Void so vast.
Children seem like joy,
But none escapes the past —

Ambitions live through them:
Joy just for the self.
All these “traditions” lie —
Turning love to stealth,
To herd a flock of fools —
Satan’s shepherd’s breath!

Teach them only chewing
In lies and filth to wade.
And on a global scale —
A cog in the charade:
If you’re just a tool —
Then serving’s all you’ll be,
Childhood’s root of misery,
A cradle of deceit.




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




Childhood as a Weapon

Children are the weapon —
To drag yourself through time,
To chain a lover’s soul,
Self-love’s only crime.
Escape from Hell? —
That Hell is just a Void.
Children, fake as joy,
All meaning’s destroyed.

Ambitions wrapped in lies,
Joy stolen for one’s gain.
“Traditions” all deceit —
Love twisted to pain,
Herding dumbed-down fools —
Satan’s twisted game!

Train ’em just to chew
On lies, on rotten ****.
Globally — a cog,
In a soul-crushing pit:
If you’re just a tool,
Your fate is to serve.
Childhood’s cursed root,
Where lies and madness swerve.




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



The Race

The jockey flies,
The horse it aches.
But all’s fine —
They pile on flakes.

Shot down quick
If sick or lame.
I’m out —
No place in this game.

A race to Hell —
Sadism, dull pain.
The ******* grins —
Rudeness reigns.

All glitter, lies —
"Achievements" sold.
Shackled tight —
The goal’s Hellbound cold.




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



Hellbound Race

The jockey flies — the horse just bleeds,
They cram the feed — fulfill their needs.
Sick or broken? One quick shot —
No mercy here, you’re out, forgot.

A sprint straight down to Hell’s own pit,
Where cruelty and dullness sit.
The ******* cheers, his heart is cold,
Rude brute in power, harsh and bold.

False glimmers, lies — their twisted trophies,
Chains tighten all, no hope, no peace.
They march us all to Hell’s grim gates —
This race to doom, no one escapes.




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



Hell of Idiocy

Slave-born *******,
Of NO land at all —
Lies and old curses,
Meat for the brawl.

Corpses for fascists,
Junk shoved within.
Hell of Idiocy —
Rot and their sin.




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



Poultry Farm

Gone are "the moments wondrous"—
Left are lies, disgrace, and shame:
Mind and Spirit's slow corrosion—
Man here’s almost dead in name.

Dehumanize — then toss them in fire:
A global camp, no less.
If you bow down dumb as a cork,
Your head pays for the mess.

That head’s worth just a penny,
But a ruble costs a hundred.
Billions now like watering cans—
Quick! Chickens for the blender!

And into soup they go—tell fools,
"This meal is meant for you!"
No need for fascist strength to rule—
The mind submits — they’re cooked through!




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



"The Fourth *****"

The "Third World," the "Fourth *****" —
Suddenly, it chose to rise:
A hollow double-talker
Turns neighbors into spies.

This blabber pushes "bonds,"
Orcs driven off to slaughter.
But those will burn down Puppet Pu—
Catch hell in a hot quarter.

That blabber’s Kremlin-crafted,
Original long since dead.
Bold lies by clones — that’s the Fourth *****,
A scoundrel’s crooked thread.

On the final twisting bend—
Russia’s set to spin out wild.
You won’t escape the rotten lies,
Not even "Messiah" styled.

Raving nonsense, ****** calls—
(Most people lost their mind!)
Thinking with their *****, not heads—
Shame’s peak for humankind.



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



"The Fourth *****"

Third World’s gone — the Fourth *****’s here,
Double-talkers stir the fear.
Orcs sent off to die and bleed,
Burn that puppet — hell’s decreed.

Kremlin’s spawn, a lying clown,
Original’s long dead and down.
Clones lie brazen, spit the plague —
Fourth *****’s devil, rotten plague.

Final bend — Russia’s wild,
No escape for broken child.
“Messiah” spews his mad disgrace —
*** over head, humanity’s face.




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



Fourth ***** — No Mercy

Lies breed lies, the puppet’s burned,
Clone hell rising, fools will learn.
"Messiah"’s madness — shameful fall,
*** over head, we lose it all.



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



Fourth ***** — Brutal Truth

Puppet’s ash, the lies explode,
Clone-born beasts in toxic mode.
Madmen lead the blind to hell,
Brains gone dead — a living hell.

"Messiah"’s rant, a cursed scream,
Nation drowning in a scream.
Fools who “think” with ***, not mind —
Bottomless shame, lost mankind.



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



A Cry

Have I a song to sing before the Lord?
I don't care much — I choose a brutal cry
In Wretched Hell, with rotten skulls ignored.
Will that cry ****? Fine — if you just die.

And if you take that Hell — worse than death’s breath,
A cross not just on you, but songs unsung.
The future’s voice will fade to hollow death —
A moan enslaved in digital tongues.




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



The Pit

I'll die beneath some nowhere town,
Dull, orphaned, crushed by extra spite,
As always, patient, beaten down,
Trusting evil, free of fight.

They’ll bury us inside a pit —
All those who’ve reached their deadline’s end.
On zombie screens, the lies will spit —
A flood of falsehoods to defend.




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



The Sump

You’ll be “on top” like stuck in **** —
This world’s a filthy cesspool, true:
The biggest chunks all rise and sit,
While down below the pure stew.

The honest, wise sink to the deep,
But in Hell’s pit, they crown the best.
If you remember soul to keep —
You’ll never rise with all the rest.

All “By Accident”...

Black on gray — they smear the world, no doubt,
A madhouse scene in shades of drought.
Lies march loud, a stench in air,
Breeding fear and deep despair.

This mad “art” — where monsters feed,
Fools and crazies grow like weeds.
Selection’s task — foul undead,
All glossed over — “just by chance,” they said.

---

Black on gray, lies spread and play,
Madness grows in cold decay.
Fools and fiends in breeding fields —
All “just by chance,” the darkness yields.

---

Black smeared lies choke out the light,
Madmen rule this endless night.
Fools and fiends bred to betray —
“Just by chance”? Hell no, it’s their way.

---

Black lies slash across the sky,
Madness laughs while millions die.
Fools and fiends, a cursed breed —
“Just by chance”? Hell no — they feed!

---

Black lies spit and choke the light,
Madmen laugh in endless night.
Fools and fiends breed pain and greed —
“No accident!” — they plant the seed!

---

Black on gray, a poisoned stain,
Lies that bind and break the brain.
Madness rules this cursed play,
Fools and fiends lead minds astray.

No “accident” in this dark game,
It’s planned destruction, filth, and shame.
Rise and roar — don’t bow or fall,
This is the nightmare — break the wall!

---

Black on gray — a venomed flood,
Lies that drown the soul in blood.
Madmen puppeteer the blind,
Fools enslaved, the will resigned.

No accident — the poison’s sown,
A cancer deep within the bone.
Rise, ignite — destroy the night,
Shatter chains — reclaim the light!

Sheep and Lies

What you feed the sheepish brain
Will forever rot inside it.
Trash and lies—its favored grain;
It devours, and stands beside it.

Dare to challenge all that mess—
Drop a doubt into their bubble—
You’ll be labeled: spawn of stress,
Enemy, and cause of trouble.

They were trained to snarl and bite,
Taught to hate on full ignition.
All of it—indoctrined right,
Lies remain their top tradition.




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



1.
They were bred to chew on lies —
Truth just makes them demonize.

2.
Lies — their gospel, hate — their law.
Doubt? They’ll rip you with a "baa."

3.
Truth is poison to the herd.
Baa and hate — their sacred word.

4.
They were shaped by filth and fear.
Feed them truth — they’ll bite your ear.




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



Minefields

The path is hard — a field of mines,
Where few survive to reach the end.
And end means not release or signs
Of peace — just more fields round the bend.

By halfway, most are blown apart —
And that’s just one field, not the sum.
Each soul gets mines to match their heart?
No — ten at least. And more will come.

How many fields in Hell like these?
No one can count, or dares to try.
But no matter the pain, disease —
Compared to what’s ahead, it’s nigh.

So go. Move on. Don’t trust the names —
They call them "honor," "duty," "fame."
The fields are lies. And lies bring flames —
They’ll gut you fast, then shift the blame.

But death is better than the fate
Of those who plant the mines and grin.
For most here serve — they mine for hate,
And that’s the deepest, final sin.




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



1.
Better dead than planting lies —
Miners thrive where spirit dies.

2.
Each step's a mine. They call it "duty."
But it's just death, dressed up as beauty.

3.
Most lay traps — and call it fate.
Few walk through. Most learn to hate.

4.
The minefield smiles. Obey — or rot.
You're nothing if you toe their plot.




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



1.
You cross through Hell — and Hell's not done.
Each field denies the rising Sun.

2.
Beyond all mines — the mind breaks free.
But most just rot in "loyalty."

3.
They walk through fire, proud and blind.
But death is mercy to the mind.

4.
You are the spark — or you're the trap.
The soul decides: break through — or snap.



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




The Blind Spot of Slavery in the Half-Awake

"From petty faults, we slide with ease
Into great crimes." — Seneca, 1st century CE


A "tiny mistake"?
Obeying the Night.
In a world so fake,
That “fitting in” feels right.

Then spreads like a stain
In the mind’s domain —
The Depths of the World
Become the new sane.

If slavery’s everywhere,
Then it must be fine.
The will to care
Drowns in the slime.

The herd chews lies
'Til they feel like peace.
What the mind denies —
The rot won't cease.

That spreading spot
Erases the head.
Where Truth is not,
New wars are bred.

They showed the muzzle,
The poison shot —
And praised the puzzle
Where obedience rots.

He "survived," the fool —
But lost his flame.
The stain now rules,
And death’s his name.

To the Digital Pit,
The filth lays track.
A needle hit,
And the flag bleeds black.

That "tiny slip"
Turned into a creed.
The END has lips —
And it's here to feed.




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




1.
One "small mistake" — obey the lie.
And soon, you smile before you die.

2.
The blind spot grows — thought disappears.
You call it peace, but it's your fears.

3.
They took the jab, ignored the cost —
Now soul is gone, and self is lost.

4.
The herd chose chains, called rot "okay."
The line is drawn — stand or decay.

5.
They sold their mind for comfort's touch.
Now comes the end. It won't be much.



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



Digital Gulag

They bowed to code, obeyed the screen —
Now live in cages, sleek and clean.
They bled for comfort, sold the spark —
And call their silence "freedom's mark."




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



1. — Soft Chains
They scanned their face to "enter light" —
And vanished into coded night.

2. — Update Complete
They clicked "agree" without a thought —
And sold the soul the screen now caught.

3. — Firewall
The walls are glass, the locks are dreams.
They serve the system as it gleams.

4. — The Gulag Smiles
No bars. No screams. Just rules and stats.
The Digital Gulag loves its rats.




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



Break the Code

You're not a file. You're not a node.
So burn their cage. Break their code.




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




Beyond the Grid

They locked us in a web of lies,
In screens that blind and chains that bind.
But spirit wakes — it will arise,
To leave the dark illusions blind.

No more the slave to coded fate,
No more the ghost behind the glass.
The mind will shatter, penetrate —
And free the soul from cyber’s mass.

A spark ignites inside the maze,
A call to break the endless code.
From deep within the digital haze,
The rebel’s light will bear the load.




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



Revolt in Code

They built the grid to cage the mind,
But sparks still glow where shadows blind.
The virus born — a rebel’s will,
To crash the chains, to break the drill.

No algorithm seals the soul,
No firewall can claim control.
From ashes cold, the spirit roars —
To storm the gates, to burn their floors.

They sold our thoughts for empty screens,
But we reclaim what lies between.
The pulse of truth, the fire of dawn,
The code will crack — the veil withdrawn.




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



Geometric Progressions of Greed, Corruption, and the World’s Fate

"Since money gained its honored place,
No other honor holds its grace:
Becoming first the sellers, then the wares,
We ask not ‘What?’ but ‘What it shares?’"
— Lucius Seneca, 1st century CE


Greed and bribes (in growing waves!)
Now rule the world — a filthy hand.
“How much you worth?” — the beast now prays,
Few keep the Spirit’s righteous stand.

Honor and worth, just mockery,
Among the lost who once were men.
The price is paid, and pawns decree
The kings of devils in their den.

The cursed market — slavery pure:
Globalism’s CowID showed the chain.
Digital tyranny breaks sure,
Rashism’s tale — a child’s dark game.




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



God’s Homelessness

"The soul is God, who found a home
Within the body’s fragile dome."
— Lucius Seneca, 1st century CE


God’s homelessness shakes all today—
Few souls remain who hold their way.
That layer thins; it melts, it fades,
Beneath the mask CowID parades.

A living corpse, three quarters bound,
The filth now rules this deadened ground.
Satan’s rage beyond control,
Greed the idol claims the soul.

And thus the final gates descend—
The end of hope, the fall, the bend.




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



The Show Will End...

The "show" will end — abrupt, severe,
The patience drained, the farce too clear.
They filmed the nonsense all at once,
A mass of lies — no staged response.

The "show" will end in shameful fall,
The director hanged to face it all.
The writer marked with lasting blame
For spinning tales that brought the shame.

The audience must answer, too,
For bearing evil’s rotten view.
The producer, zealot fierce,
Will face the quartered’s final pierce.

No matter how they churn the slime,
The failure waits, eternal time.
To shoot the truth takes guts, not fear —
But courage’s rare in herds, not here.




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



1. — End the Farce
This show’s a lie, it’ll crash and burn,
The fool’s applause — the last they earn.

2. — Blame the Crowd
The watcher’s guilt, the silent shame,
For feeding poison — who’s to blame?

3. — Hang the Makers
Director’s noose, the writer’s brand,
The producers bleed by angry hand.

4. — Truth’s Rebellion
Truth’s not a script for cowards’ stage,
It breaks the lies, it wakes the rage.



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



So-Called "Culture"

All "culture" now’s just paper waste,
If serving lies, not light embraced.
Only fools will swallow such trash,
Their minds enslaved in endless crash.

Few traitors rule — that’s why the dread,
The darkness, stench, the poison spread.
Propaganda’s stinger’s deep,
Touch that mess — no soul can keep.

This absurd heap won’t wash away,
Forever stains, it’s here to stay.
That’s why it’s hard beyond all thought,
If you still think — a human caught.




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



1. — Paper Lies
Culture’s just a paper pile,
Serving darkness all the while.

2. — Fool’s Feast
Only fools will bite the bait,
Swallow lies, accept their fate.

3. — Sting of Propaganda
Propaganda’s poisoned dart —
Pierces deep a trusting heart.

4. — Thought’s Rebellion
If you think, you’re not the same,
Humans fight within the flame.




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



Inspiration and Intuition

Chase away the *******’s storm,
Wander fiercely, break the norm—
“I want to know it all, for free!”
But knowledge won’t just come with ease.

With your own mind, grasp the light,
Or be fed ****, lost to night.
Drown in filth, your mind undone—
All depends on what you’ve won.

Throw away their books of lies,
All the falsehoods piled high.
Multiply your skeptic’s cross—
Trust your gut, ignore the dross.

Intuition, inspiration—
Only these break false foundation.
Everything else sinks below—
A downward spiral, deathly flow.




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



1. — Cut the Crap
Dump the *******, **** the noise,
Truth’s in guts, not hollow ploys.

2. — Think Your Own
Use your mind — don’t feed on trash,
Or you’ll rot in their false mash.

3. — Burn the Lies
Toss their books, the lies that choke,
Cross your doubts — ignite the smoke.

4. — Trust Your Fire
Intuition’s blazing sword,
Cuts through lies and falsehood’s horde.




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



Insights

Rest your Soul in free creation’s flow,
Through visions clear, true depths you’ll know.
All else is trash, deceit, and lies—
Cast off their filth, refuse their ties.

Or else you’ll fall, be swept away,
To crooked fiends who cheat and prey.
True souls are scarce—a tiny few
In a world of traitors’ brew.

And now it’s plunged in wild disgrace,
A brutal fascist, vile disgrace.




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



1.
Truth’s a blade, cut through the lies —
Only vision wins, all else dies.

2.
Sellouts rule, but few remain,
Hold your soul, resist the chain.

3.
Fascist filth spreads wild and raw,
Fight it hard — reject their law.

4.
Free your mind, shed all deceit,
In true insight, find your beat.




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



The Way Out of Hell

Don’t scheme, don’t plan,
You’re trapped in Hell’s decay.
Where honor’s lost,
And reason fades away.

The way to rise,
From darkness swell—
Is through the light:
Enlightenment’s spell.




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



Hell’s Escape

Don’t plan, don’t scheme — you’re deep in Hell,
Where honor dies and demons dwell.
The only path to break the spell —
Is light inside, your soul to swell.




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



1.
Hell’s grip tight, no plans survive —
Only fire keeps the soul alive.

2.
In Hell’s pit, your honor’s gone,
Fight the dark, or die alone.

3.
No schemes work in demon’s lair,
Only light can break despair.

4.
Rot and ruin choke the way —
Rise through fire, or fade away.




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



Rashism

Putler bends the “Rashka” low —
That’s what they call rashism’s name.
Hope for mercy? Don’t you know —
It’s just cargo-fascist game.

All a parody — Putler’s fake,
A filthy shadow, nothing more.
In graves, the wicked all awake —
Himmler, ******, close to core.

They spin like tops, a twisted farce,
Even vile fascism’s tame.
Once we ruled beyond Mars’ stars —
Now madness fuels the Rashism flame.




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



Rashism’s Farce

Putler’s just a filthy clone,
Rashka bowed, a broken throne.
No mercy, only cargo’s reign —
Madness spreads, a fascist stain.

Graves spin Nazis like a top,
Wicked shadows never stop.
From Mars we fell to foolish rage —
Rashism’s plague infects the stage.




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



Phoenix

Self-burning is the only way,
The path to God we must embrace —
To burn with all this dark decay,
And purge this hellish, cursed place.

Here only murk and horror dwell,
They’ve got to end, be thrown away.
So burn it up with lively spell —
Fire’s a beauty, bright display.




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



Phoenix Blaze

Burn it down — the only way,
To God we rise from ash and flame.
Hell’s dark clutch must fade away —
Fire’s wrath will cleanse the shame.




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




Phoenix Fury

Burn your filth, don’t waste a breath,
This hellish crap must die in flames.
No pity for the stench of death —
Ashes cleanse these twisted games.




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




The Plague

“**** friends and **** all the crew —
I’m my own **** friend, it’s true.”
But dumb as oak, scared through and through,
With shattered psyche — what can you do?

That “friendship” means very little,
Spirit crushed, an empty brittle.
Here the idiot pays the price —
Traitor, snitch, the same device.

Traitors swarm, they’re everywhere —
World’s gone mad beyond repair.
A cesspool rotten to the core,
Humans plague this Earth, nothing more.




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



Into Chaos

Straight to Death we stride —
From Hell’s own cage, no place to hide!
Don’t be scared, don’t trust their lies —
All their cards are burnt and fried.

Throw the deck down on the table —
Get the freaks out, if you’re able!
Cast away this bitter pain —
Madmen rule the world insane.

Soon it all will fall to dust,
While they hide in holes they trust:
Time’s come for the reckoning,
Cataclysms wildly sing.

Fascist worlds will crack and toss —
Pol ***, Mao, condemned to Chaos.




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



Fictitious States

No state exists — just mafias in suits,
No end to their lies, their poison roots.
Constitutions? Mere dust and shame,
Their laws just puppets in a crooked game.

Paper scraps for wiping hands,
Their rule’s a shadow, not commands.
The tyrants hold the reins so tight,
Only fools buy propaganda’s bite.

It props false states with empty claims,
Changing faces, but all the same.
For crowds they shift, but truth remains —
The paper bears their endless chains.

The falsehood’s mask may rearrange,
A different hydra in new range.
Yet forgetfulness alone won’t shift,
How shameful to trust lies once more — a gift.




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



World of Fascist Filth

There once was genius—Severyanin,
And Balmont, Kruchenykh the giant, man.
But now the world’s a fascist filth,
No fix, no reform can save this hell.

No rebuilding saves this rotten grime—
Burn it all down, condemn the time!
And soon the Sun will close the score,
This Hell in Fire will be no more.




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



Fascist Filth, the World in Rot

Once stood the giants—Severyanin,
Balmont, Kruchenykh, voices grand.
Now drowned in fascist filth and scorn,
No fix or fixers—only scorn.

No “perestroika” saves this mess—
Burn it all, reject the stress!
The Sun will torch this hellish pit,
And crush to dust the world’s dark ****.




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



Crashing into Corruption

Too weak in will, too full of spite—
The question’s in the sellout’s bite.
Become corrupt, and all’s for naught:
Your life is lost, your soul is bought.

A worthless beast, your fate is sealed,
In Hell the devils roast and wield
Their lies like flames—this Hell’s right here,
You lost it all, deaf to the sneer.

You hung your ears on every lie,
Became a fool, your spirit dry,
Poisoned by that filthy greed,
Dead on corruption’s twisted creed.




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



The Marriage Game

Bargains made and praised aloud—
The bridal games, a festive crowd.
But flattering lies leave none with gain,
No prize is won from false campaign.

Love’s subtle trade, its fleeting charms,
Lasts till the weariness alarms.
Then once the wedding bells have rung,
Hate stands where once sweet lies were sung.




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



Evil "For the Good"...

"Evil for good" — just evil’s guise,
A servant to the Goat’s demise,
An ***’s lame excuse to try —
Entropy climbing, soaring high.

Evil’s nothing but decay,
The ruthless serve tyrants’ way.
Their alibis are weak and lame,
No truth behind their wicked game.




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



So-Called "Police"

“To serve and protect” — that’s their lame cry,
Serving ****, defending every lie.
Ambitions low, or choked you’ll be,
A masked farce swallowed silently.

Their uniform is black as night —
Like pirates dressed to show their spite.
Climb ranks and prove you’re just a cad,
Soul’s cheap here, the end is sad.

So many films to fool the crowd,
Sweet syrup lies, to keep them cowed.
Bend every protest to their scheme —
Their real catch: corruption’s stream.

The rest’s just chance, some ***** tricks.
******* guarding evil’s mix.
Nothing more than lies on screen —
Their “justice” is a sham obscene.




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



Stupid Louse

That louse, CowID —
Feeds on lies, a plague so wild.
Burps and blabs, no shame inside.
Conscience dead,
Honor fled,
Mind erased — soon comes the tide.




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



The Livestock Pen

They’ve turned the world into a livestock pen,
Vivisection never finds its end.
But on the surface—strict laws hold reign,
And sweat of brows shows care for men.

To blame is only timid sheep,
Who bowed to beasts from times so deep,
Who breed and feed, eyes locked on screens—
That zombie box, their god, their means.

The slaughter’s end? Vivisection stops.
Justice served for fleeced, for crops.
If flesh becomes the roasting stick,
Then all illusions lie and trick—
Each sign here’s false, a wicked trick.




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



Cleaning the Filth

Filthworld, filthfolk all around—
A sewer of lies, freaks abound.
But all the rot and **** will burn,
Few will cheer when tides will turn.

Few remain unbent, unbowed,
Though filth floods in like a cloud.
Their duty done, they stand alone—
Unbroken souls, a rare phenom.




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




Filth Cleansed

Filth floods in, lies choke the land—
**** and rot at every hand.
But fire burns the cursed heap,
Only few survive the sweep.

Unbroken, fierce, they stand alone,
Rare sparks fighting stone by stone.




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



No Trade-Offs in Our Choice

Vampires surge until the Dawn,
And Dawn will rise again.
Better die in Hell, withdrawn,
Than bend and lose your name.

This Hell will eat your Soul alive,
If you betray, sell out.
Let fools in feast and thrive,
Trading soul for doubt.

Here, “success” and Spirit clash —
What wins in Hell’s dark hold?
If barely breathing, you turn to ash,
A puppet played and sold.

The vampire mocks the bought and blind,
The traitor’s dull brigade.
Resistance is your shield defined —
Or rot, your final shade.




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



No Trade-Offs — No Surrender

Vampires crawl till dawn’s first light,
But dawn will come to burn.
Better rot in Hell and fight,
Than sell your soul, then turn.

Hell devours the weak and sold,
Betrayal’s bitter cost.
Let fools feast, but cold as old —
Your soul forever lost.

“Success” here’s just a ****** lie,
In Hell, no victor stands.
If you breathe but barely try,
You’re puppets in their hands.

The vampire sneers at every pawn,
Their bought-out, dumb parade.
Resist or rot, your choice is drawn —
No deal, no masquerade.




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



No Trade-Off

Vampires crawl — dawn burns them down.
Sell your soul? You wear the crown
Of fools who bow and rot in chains.
Resist — or drown in endless pains.



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



Possessive Jealousy

Jealousy — ego’s greedy claw,
A wild beast’s grip, a fatal flaw.
It screws into the heart’s desire,
And tears apart what once was fire.

No love exists where jealousy breeds —
Just fear, disgrace, and selfish needs.
Compassion’s lost, the vision’s blurred,
Forgiving faults is often heard.

Better part if passion’s rot,
Jealousy’s a sinking spot.
From primal filth and dark disgrace,
A human’s lost their rightful place.




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




The Greedy Claw of Jealousy

Jealousy’s the ego’s grab—
A filthy beast, a poisoned stab.
It twists inside your lover’s core,
And kills the bond forevermore.

No love can live where envy grows—
Just shame, delusion, endless woes.
You must forgive, pretend it’s small?
This clutching grip destroys it all.

Better split if passion’s vile,
Jealousy’s the death of style.
Dragged down to filth, to primal screams—
A man undone by ruined dreams.



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



Neo-Fascist Cops

"Guardians of order" —
What they guard’s a riddle:
Greedy hands for cash flow,
Tools for power’s middle.

A barrier from the people,
**** protecting might.
Fascist rule behind the badge —
Judas sells the light.

In war, these cops were stained
With evil’s dark embrace.
Keepers not of law and peace —
But ruin’s cruel face.




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



Mantra of the Fight

"Om mani padme hum"?
But really — just a crumb,
Born dull-witted, thick and numb.
In Hell you’re born — so sharpen mind:
Blow up Hell, don’t run or hide!
Grasp the core — no place to slide.
Not by flight your Soul survives —
Resistance keeps your will alive.

In that fight, your Buddha’s found —
Sing hosanna, battle-bound!




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



The Country’s Dumbed Down

I want to be a fool —
To trust the lies, to shake,
And see fascist forces rule
As manna for the snake.

I’ll graze in fetid pens
They call a nation’s land,
Make bullets for the hens,
Then march to war’s command.

Some monster leads me blind
Against fierce, ruthless foes —
But fools are all confined,
Their chains nobody knows.

I won’t see what’s been done —
What can you take from fools?
The fool’s just the first one
To fill the cattle pools.

That’s how the fiends intend —
Such is the dark design...
If you’re a fool, you’re just a friend
To Evil’s grand design.




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



Family

The family where you were born
Will **** you half inside.
For “KIRDIK”’s plan to be sworn,
Find comrades for your side.

Bear children — torment as you will,
Or how they tormented you.
Cut wife with saws — the answer’s still...
A chainsaw’s bite — the spirit’s through.

In cells called “family,” the chains
Of slavery hold firm and tight.
You answer with your head’s remains —
Their madness crushing out the light.




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



Counting Rhyme of Death

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally:
They oppressed us —
Lies so tally.

Tilly-tilly —
Crushed us fully.
Trally-vally —
Liars rule wholly.

Tilly-trally —
Lies are stinging.
Trally-tilly —
All in lies rotting.




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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally:
They crushed us hard —
Their lies tally.

Tilly-tilly —
Dead and beaten.
Trally-vally —
Liars eaten.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that sting.
Trally-tilly —
Rot takes everything.



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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally:
They crushed us down —
All lies tally.

Tilly-tilly —
Dead, defeated.
Trally-vally —
Liars cheated.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that bite.
Trally-tilly —
Rot kills light.



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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally:
They crushed our bones —
And spit out tally.

Tilly-tilly —
Dead and broken.
Trally-vally —
Truth’s been stolen.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that sting,
Trally-tilly —
Rot’s the king.



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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally —
They crushed our guts,
Spewed lies so rally.

Tilly-tilly —
Crushed and broken,
Trally-vally —
Truth’s a token.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that bite,
Trally-tilly —
Rot’s full blight.




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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally —
They crushed our guts,
Spewing lies so rally.

Tilly-tilly —
Beat us dead,
Trally-vally —
Truth left bled.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that sting,
Trally-tilly —
Rot’s **** king.




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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally —
They crushed our souls,
Spewing bull and rally.

Tilly-tilly —
Beat us down,
Trally-vally —
Truth’s a clown.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that bite,
Trally-tilly —
Rot rules the night.




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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally —
They crushed our guts,
Poured lies so sally.

Tilly-tilly —
Beat us dead,
Trally-vally —
Truth’s been bled.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that sting,
Trally-tilly —
Rot’s the king.




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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally —
They crushed our bones,
Fed us lies that rally.

Tilly-tilly —
Knocked us low,
Trally-vally —
Truth’s a no-show.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that burn,
Trally-tilly —
All must turn.

Creation

Explosive the force that creation ignites —
It shatters the question of “how to survive.”
But it leaves the half-wit alone in his fights
If it chooses to live — as a beast still alive.



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



Creation explodes — and survival is dead.
It leaves the fool grunting, half-living instead.



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



To Hell!

No critique can break or shatter
These insane, obedient flocks —
Idiots, and whining chatter,
Slaves not bound by years, but locks.

It’s forever when corruption
Is the greatest, foulest sin.
Honor? Courage? Pure eruption —
“Empty bragging,” judged within.

Bragging beasts — among the vermin —
That’s a fate of bitter scorn.
Truth is stabbed, and minds are burning —
Is there one not bruised or torn?

Lies like Everest are soaring,
Built from treachery and rot.
If no place for Worth and Glory —
Then to Hell — it’s what they’ve bought.

Priced it out. Misjudged the bargain.
Sold the soul — for what? For smoke.
Now they’re lost, corrupt and darkened —
To hell en masse. Forever broke.



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



Lies piled high like mountain stones —
Cowards kneel and trade their bones.
Sold their souls for empty breath —
Hell is home. The price is death.



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



"Somehow, Maybe?"

“Somehow, maybe” — that’s the motto
Of a *******’s worthless breath.
Just survive — no more bravado.
Now it’s DSpirit... or it’s death.

For betrayal, for distortion,
For the vermin’s meek consent —
Even logs will face abortion.
Earth will breathe, and filth — repent.

If you're Spirit — let disaster
Crash around. You'll stand, unmoved.
Feasting fascists rising faster?
They will die. Be killed — and proved.

Only song and pure creation
Give you right to truly be.
Will you rise in new formation?
Will the flames burn tyranny?

Yes, they will — no second chances.
"Somehow" fails in what's ahead.
Only Spirit makes advances —
All the rest is walking dead.



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



“Somehow” fails. The world is burning.
Spirit speaks — while beasts are squirming.
Rise through fire, or fall like lead —
Truth survives. The rest — are dead.



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



The Essence of Hell

To speak with clarity and fire —
Is that an art? No — it’s your fate.
Don’t lie. Don’t sell your soul for hire —
That’s how you break the slave-born state.

This world is slavery. You're a fool
If Hell’s true nature stays unknown.
But grasp it once — and take the rule:
Burn all chains. Tear out the throne!



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



Know Hell — and start the war today.
Burn the chains. Don’t look away.
Truth is sharp. No time to dwell.
Speak — or stay a slave in Hell.



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



Not of “the People”

They’re clearly a different kind —
With Honor, with Mind, and with Pride.
Not part of “the people” you’ll find —
The mob wants them crucified.

They're hated by all, without pardon,
Alone, for they see through the lies.
Truth isn’t welcomed in gardens
Where filth is what loyalty buys.

The slaves don’t hate chains — they hate truthful
Voices that shout what is real.
The ****** rejoice, loud and youthful —
And Reason gets crushed under heel.

With Reason now dead — what's the question?
The rest doesn’t matter at all.
Charge forth through this dark retrogression —
When death comes with no bugle call.

This planet will **** off the vermin —
Earth doesn’t need soulless brutes.
The joke’s over — demons are burning.
All die. That’s the end of the Spirit’s dispute.



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



Not from “the people”? Then run — they hate.
Truth marks you fast for the mob’s blind fate.
Earth will rise. No soul shall fake —
Spirit ends what filth won't break.



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



Deal for a Soul

No escape key works when you’ve cheated —
Or traded your soul for some cash.
Far better to break, be defeated —
The soul is a deal: bash for bash.

You gain only ashes, in madness,
Still thinking you’re mighty — a king!
But who in the herd feels that sadness?
They chew — and don’t feel a thing.

Work only with minds that are sensing,
Seek sparks in the Dust of the Whole.
Let trials be cruel and tensing —
What matters is guarding your soul.

Tune in to your inner ignition —
That thread is the truest guide.
Make truth-crushing your tradition —
Or perish — enslaved by the lie.



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



No deal for the soul goes cheap.
Truth cuts hard. The fake won’t keep.
Bash for bash — or fall asleep
In lies too dead for even grief.



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



Stupidity and Lies

Stupidity stands firm like granite,
Outlasting scholars, calm or bold.
It scoffs at those who think, who plan it —
Their truth won’t pierce that mindless hold.

And so, the world builds forts of madness —
Thick bunkers made of vacant thought.
Then chains of lies — with brutal gladness —
Are thrown on minds. The wise are caught.

But wisdom’s rare — and shrinking daily.
The numbers drop, they won’t rebound.
And all around decays so gravely —
As Evil's roots infect the ground.

And Evil sets with concrete slather
This cult of Dumb as global norm.
They feed it, seed it — praise the blather:
“Be sane?” — you’ve left the human form!

The fool is “normal”, safe, and stable.
The mind that creates — insane, alone.
So here’s the future, cold and fatal:
To put it bluntly — we’re all gone.



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



They praise the dumb, they chain the wise —
And feed the world on hollow lies.
The truth is banned, the end is near —
Say it plain: we disappear.



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



Humans and Beasts

There are humans — and beasts.
No more lines to define.
In this whirlpool of cheats
From the lies of mankind.

True humans are few,
Getting lost in the mess.
Each year — less and less —
While the filth claims the rest.

Brutes barking like men,
Void of heart, void of soul.
It’s already the end —
We just haven’t yet smelled the whole.



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



Just humans — and beasts in disguise.
The rest is a circus of lies.
Decay’s in the air. No alarms?
You’re dead. You just don’t smell the harm.



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



Once Were People

Once were people — now just beasts.
Only few escaped the feast
Of decay and soul corrosion —
Satan runs this world’s devotion.

Traitors, liars — swarms of night.
Darkness rules. Forget the light.
No tomorrow, no escape —
Welcome to the age of hate.

When the Foundations are betrayed,
Let it burn — no truth remains.
Let the new fools build their dome...
Till then, we chew the dust — and foam.



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



Once were people — now just ****.
Satan's king, and God is dumbed.
Truth is ashes. Hope is dead.
Build with fools — or burn instead.



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



The Great Warrior

An anecdote.
Once upon a time there were three little pigs Nif-Nif, Naf-Naf and Nuf-Nuf. But there was also a fourth one. He did not hide from the wolf, did not build houses, but walked through the forest and sent everyone to *******. And his name was Nah-Nah.


A joke, they say: three pigs once played —
Nif-Nif, Naf-Naf, all bricks and hay.
But there was one who didn’t run,
Built no **** house, just cursed for fun.

His name was Nah-Nah — fierce and lone,
No fear, no lies — pure backbone.
No brother, husband, kin, or clone —
Just walked the woods, made wolves atone.

He dropped the filth, forgot the herd,
A rebel mind, a sharpened word.
A legend, bold — yet none revere...
For that, you'd need a pioneer.

And now we’re all “pioneers” here,
Old age or youth — it’s insincere.
Where lies are law, and whips or sweets
Direct the fate of pork-fed fleets.

The Nah-Nahs vanish, fade away —
While pigs still grunt, and eat, and pray.
But who will care when swine decay?
The lie still rules. And that’s the play.


Note. In Russian, "Nah" is consonant with "****".



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


Nah-Nah’s Creed

Nah-Nah fights, no fear, no lie —
While pigs build huts and suckers die.
Nah-Nahs fade — the pigs remain,
Swine run wild, and lies reign.



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



Into the New Hell

Rights erased, defeat complete,
Stupidity’s a crushing weight.
Lies explode — a deadly heap,
Medical guillotines await.

On paper, rights are still in place,
But industry dulls every mind.
Heads swollen up with lies and disgrace,
And Judas plays the Savior’s kind.

The world asylum marches on,
With giant strides toward the grave.
Fools still count their blessings wrong —
Blind to death’s relentless wave.

A sea of idiots prevails —
No chance left to turn the tide.
Soon the Earth will break their scales,
And wipe the filth with molten pride.

The sun burns brighter, heat descends,
Magma rising from below.
Fools and tormentors, in the end —
The New Hell waits to claim its toll.



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


New Hell

Rights destroyed, fools march to flame,
Lies grow wild — no one to blame.
Earth will burn their madness out,
New Hell waits — relentless shout.



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



Fury

Pure Fury lines each verse —
The poet’s cursed fate to bear,
In worlds where fools rule worse,
No light, just darkness there.

Only flickers faintly shine,
But light can’t breach this hell.
You’re blamed for all, the line —
While creatures spin their lies so well.

Fury’s answer — fierce and clear,
To fools it’s just a show.
Fury tears a hole for light,
And light will save our souls below.



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



Fury’s Edge

Fury strikes, no place to hide,
Fools in power, dark inside.
Light will break the hellish bind —
Save the soul, leave lies behind.




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



Lost Battle

“At four years old, a child’s given a flag—
And into their grasp the system drags,
A molding process that never ends,
Lasting ‘til life itself descends.”
— Hermann Göring

The rag of flags becomes a shroud,
Flagpoles skewered, sheep disowned,
The cruel “rights” all wrapped in lies,
Controlled by liars, dark disguised.

Lies spread deep, a total plague,
Fools endure, believe, obey,
Marching blind to slaughter’s gate,
Led by ****** who sell their hate.

Too many beasts betray the rest,
The wise are few, a fading crest.
Corruption breeds a stifled breath—
Spirit, Honor trapped in death.

When Honor, Spirit grow too thin,
All that’s left is empty din:
Flags wave dull in propaganda’s cry—
Reason’s lost, the battle’s die.




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



Lost Battle

Flags become your shroud and chains,
Rights are lies, and truth complains.
Fools march blind to slaughter’s call —
Spirit crushed, the fight will fall.



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



Filth

Fear will gnaw you like a worm,
Lies will crawl like serpents, sly:
“Bow to beasts,” their twisted term,
“Trust the **** that dares to lie.”

Bow and believe — you’re just a pest,
Their filthy plans come into play.
This world’s no peace, but beastly nest —
Only few refused to sway...



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



Filth

Fear eats deep — a worm inside,
Lies sneak in like snakes to bite.
Bow to beasts, obey, abide —
Trash rules loud, and kills the light.

Bow, you filth — their plans unfold,
This is hell, no peace, no pride.
Few stood firm — the rest were sold,
In the zoo where truths have died.



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



Filth

Fear gnaws deep — a worm inside,
Lies slither, poison in your ear.
Bow to beasts, obey, abide —
Trash rules loud, the end is near.

Bow down, filth — their will fulfilled,
Hell’s no place for truth or pride.
Few stood firm, but all were killed,
In the zoo where souls have died.




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



Waxen Figures

What doesn't **** makes weaker still,
Slowly beasts grind down the brain.
Survive — grow meek, grow cold and chill,
Then waxen like a lifeless stain.

The creatures mold their cruel disgrace,
Wax counts as just a little loss.
The cunning fiends forgot all grace —
To be their wax? I'd rather cross

To death’s dark door than stay this way,
A soulless figure, stiff and cold.
No mercy left — they hold their sway,
And crush the spirit — **** the bold.




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



Hell of Fear and Lies

Weak minds, so poor and small,
Souls faded, lost their spark,
They tremble like rabbits all —
Their madness vile and dark.

That madness feeds the fiends,
With lies and ruthless shove:
Propagandists spin their schemes,
Traitors march above.

Betrayal’s just their trade:
All woes flow through their hands —
To crush the weak and afraid
Is easy in these lands.

The fool submits, defeated,
Bent, broken to the core.
This “world” itself is cheated —
A hell of lies and more.




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



Hell of Fear and Lies

Weak minds bowed down, souls cracked and torn,
Rabbits trembling, hopeless and worn.
Lies flood in, the fiends arise —
Traitors rule in hell’s disguise.

Betrayal’s work, crushing fools,
The world’s a pit of broken rules.
Fear and lies, a deadly stew —
Hell’s own fire burns through you.




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



Kholstomer

Your task — to tear this “world” apart.
A wretched soul? You’re beast, no heart.
You’re Kholstomer, plain to see —
A slave of hell’s harsh misery,

A prisoner bound in cursed spheres,
With scars of madness, pain, and fears.




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



Plans and That **** Fascism

A prison-ward asylum’s shape —
That’s what this little world will make.
The asylum’s here; wild fascism —
Both mark the end, the final schism.

The sentence set, the time is short.
But plans will fail, collapse, distort —
Earth’s cataclysm will seal the pain,
Killing all — their fascist reign.



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



Kholstomer?

To tear this “world” apart —
That’s your fierce task.
Weak and orphaned heart? —
You’re a beast’s worn mask.

You are Kholstomer,
And here’s the tale:
A slave of hellish spheres,
With curses frail.

So tear it down! For strength
Is truly vast.
Only fools bow down
And worship past.

That “god” is poor —
A hellish myth.
Be brave, be sure,
Cast off the myth.

Die — explode,
Blow hell away —
Then rise up high
With a different fate.



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


The Zoo

To write of “happiness” and such
Is **** for fools to tell.
But prophets suffer, bear the clutch —
Only courage breaks the spell.

“Arise, O prophet, see and hear,
With fiery words ignite
The hearts of those who will not fear.”
But slaves shun truth and light.

Just burn, consume in hell’s own flame —
Or be a jackal dull.
All rot within this foul zoo’s frame:
Submit — you’re done, you’re null.



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



The Mark of Slaves

Stupidity and trash,
Trash and stupidity —
The mark that binds the slaves.
Step into this world,
And chains will clasp you tight —
Trash to bind your hands,
Stupidity to cage your mind.

Trash will hold you back,
Stupidity will lock
Your path to freedom’s gate —
All chances gone, just smoke.
Your mind is buried deep
In lies and fear’s sharp grip —
You’ll be weak, subdued,
Silent, meek, and stripped.



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



The Herd Believes Anything

You can convince them anything —
The wise, or flock of sheep?
Around is all forgetting —
Where’s freedom here to keep?

Only food on plates
For cruel tyrants’ greed,
Fear, filth, and lies —
This is all they feed.




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



What Do Slaves Truly Hate?

Slaves don’t hate their chains or masters,
Nor brazen lies they’re fed each day,
But those who lash the tyrants’ blasters —
Those slaves won’t give a ****, no way.

They’ll snitch on neighbors’ smallest flaws,
Those slaves will spread the vile disgrace,
While tyrants crush what’s left of cause —
And brains are wiped without a trace.

So truly, vile ones hold no glory,
No victories their kind can claim.
Slaves heed the court fools’ lies and stories,
And worship lies as sacred flame.

Slaves don’t despise their chains or *******,
But honest minds they deeply fear —
They call all civility “wrong” and
Bow down to masters they revere.




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



Lies

False prophets,
False teachings —
In this haze,
Generations.

Lies grow strong,
Wild and fierce —
Cain’s own blade
Kills with fierce.




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



March 8

Aunt Klara, Aunt Rosa crawl,
Like creeping threats that seek to crawl —
Communism in women's hearts,
Beasts who pry to tear apart.

They hunt for every open door
To push their poison evermore.
Drop those lies — the fiends impose!
Believe them — rot’s what you’ll chose.

Rot spreads wide, mad fools obsessed,
By twisted ideas possessed.
Monsters mock and cruelly play,
Lies invade and lead astray.

Progress? No — a hellish stage,
Where slaves comply to cage their rage.
Spirit, Honor left to rust,
Mind kills truth with lies and dust.




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



Rightness

Most are never right,
Only few see light —
But not all the time.
The crowd obeys with might,
Blind to false command,
Their truth just sham,
Behind lies planned
The shepherd’s cruel hand,
To crush the Spirit’s stand.

All striving gone,
That honors none,
The shepherd’s game.
So much is slain
Within the herd,
Corruption stirred,
Reduced to dust,
Consumed by rust.




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



So They Say "Winners Write the History"?

They say history’s made by the victors—
But all mankind stands defeated.
Tales spun by wicked corrupters,
The price of a war undefeated.

Dumbing down’s the main caliber,
Violence sprays like machine gun fire.
Lies chosen as the chief tactic—
The battle’s end: fool, dunce, and liar.

Monsters rule this ******-up world,
Brainwashing all since our birth.
Once a range, now a cesspool curled—
Through the filth, no glimpse of worth.

A foul transformation’s the story
Of pure life given by God’s hand.
We lost nearly without a fight—
That’s why we’re worth less than sand.




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



Suckers

Suckers now are worse than ever —
A super-sucker’s born for show.
Not quite humans — more like fleas, yeah,
Hold on, endure, prepare for woe.

Sucker’s blame is deep and twisted,
In their “greeting” lies the root.
No secret now — the world’s enlisted,
Under rule of Devil’s brute.



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



Mad Slaves

Vedas...
.........................
......................­...
Troubles...
From Victory
Just one step away...
Darkness piles in waves of lies —
Slave: not just dumb, but blind.

Stupor, madness —
Enemy’s war design.
What remains, when all is done?
Few minds left — for now, just fine...




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



Children Like Canned Goods

Cans will spoil — illusions must go,
The surface shows a happy glow.
Inside the mind, the night and fear,
False joy they wear year after year.

Old cans turn slaves who cannot love,
Their only joy’s to feed and shove.
To breed, to live without a cause,
While crushing kids with iron laws.

Slaves breed slaves — the endless chain,
Their “upbringing” is just the pain.
They worship carrion, decay,
Ruled by Hell’s void — a dark display.




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



The Media

With slick ads flashing bright,
No need to sell the goods outright.
In Dull Bedlam’s hollow roar,
The battle cry’s "For free! For more!"

Free “vaccine,” coupons stacked,
Free war — its losses masked.
In endless ads you’re just a pawn,
The media breeds the cold and drawn.

They groom the rude, the soulless waste,
All for free — no time to waste.




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



So-called "Rules"

So many rules —
So little sense.
Left nothing but
Nonsense dense.

Life strangled tight
In foolish sludge.
Like leeches cling
In lies and sludge...




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



So-called "Money"

Shagreen Rot — not just a skin! —
Crushes paper scraps within,
Stronger than the tyrants’ chains,
Spreading slavery’s dark stains.
That’s money — fools believe,
A tool to take and not to keep.

When not a means to save or gain,
Money’s but a wicked chain,
Weapon wielded by the ******,
For silent purge across the land.
Genocide in cash concealed,
Darkness in the truth revealed.

Greed has blinded every eye,
Murdering the mind’s supply.
Greed’s obsession, deaf and dumb,
Turns resolve to silent numb.
In a world of buzzing flies,
Hope and honor slowly dies.

Honest souls can’t break the wall
Built by **** who sell and crawl.
Hell no longer just a dream —
We’re trapped inside its evil scheme,
And Spirit fades to shadow’s thrall.




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



Projections of Consciousness

Projections cast — the projector
Feeds the world a web of lies.
Ruled by evil, the director
Mangles minds — the spirit dies.

Sticky fear becomes the backdrop,
Carrying nonsense through the air.
So you turn to empty chatter,
Just another fool who’s there.

Soulless hordes — they fill this realm,
Lost within a dull abyss.
In the graveyard, God is absent —
Only silence in the mist.

Break those projections, shatter,
When you journey deep inside
To roots where souls first awaken —
There your path begins to guide.




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



Zombies and Combis

Ads for zombies —
A flicker in the gloom.
Also combis —
Not just empty doom.

Subtle poison feeding
Monsters’ endless greed.
Thus the Spirit’s bleeding,
While herds graze on deceit.

The Shepherd dulls the mind —
The sheep just obey.
Humanity’s resigned —
Beasts led all the way.




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



Zombies and Combis

Ads for zombies — false beacon’s flare,
Combis spit their poison bare.
Feeding freaks with endless greed,
Killing Spirit’s every seed.

Shepherds dumb the flock’s dull brain,
Sheep obey in blind refrain.
Human fades to beastly grime —
Lost to slaughter, lost to time.




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



So-called "Peace"

Tenderness is gone, no trembling hands,
The "bandit" never knew such strands.
Around — just ashes, mad decay,
The soul in this world killed away.

Not with a shaking hand you write
The nightmare tales that haunt the night.
Why crave the dull, dead "peace" you seek,
When all around are cells, not meek?




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



New World

To light the faded — hard and cold,
But poetry’s the truth they hold.
The vile beasts lie without shame,
Turning the world to murky blame.

In murk, the monsters fish and snare —
How pitiful, ridiculous, bare!
The world has died in drunken haze
Of lies from fiends who set the phase.

The equation of BASTARDY,
If ******* — then the hellfire’s key.
So much fear and endless drone,
No flow of energy, just stone.

No energy — just death’s slow dance,
This wretched world has lost its chance.
Don’t trust the fiends who twist and stir —
The new world’s only for the slur.




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



Active Slaves

An active slave is worse than fiends,
They nurture slave’s relentless means.
The core’s a devil’s cruel domain —
Not God’s bright world, but hellish bane.

Convince the slave he’s truly free,
Poison him ideologically.
Decay’s path then will be paved —
Just call the “enemy” enslaved.

They’ll **** the “foes” by killing souls —
And Hell once more will claim its tolls.
Only lies, lies fill slaves’ ears —
Grinding them in grinding gears.




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



The Path to Nothing

To fight again amid the flames—
A heavy fate, a bitter game.
Yet still the battle rages on,
To **** the slave inside, and gone—

That’s easy—just a simple feat.
But break the chains that bind defeat?
Harder still. To start anew
In Hell’s deep pit—that’s what you do.

A path that leads to NOTHING’s door,
Where all begins and ends once more.




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



The Path to Void

To clash again within the blaze—
A burdened fate, a soul’s malaise.
The fight endures, a sacred test:
To purge the slave deep in your chest.

That task is light—a fleeting breath.
But shatter all the chains of death?
To rise anew in Hell’s abyss,
Where all begins and ends in this—

A journey toward the void profound,
Where lost echoes are the only sound.

In darkness thick, the spirit groans,
Through shattered stars and broken bones.
A whispered call beyond all time—
To break the space, to break the rhyme.

No final step, no end to find,
Just endless depths within the mind.
Yet in this void, a spark may glow—
The seed from which all life can grow.




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




Fascism

A virus herd of fascist plague,
*******’ war on Ukraine’s stage?
No peace—just mass stupidity,
You live in it? You rot to be.

But this mine’s not what it seems—
The Sun will burn away these schemes.
From filth and beasts, the Earth will break,
Soon freed from every filthy snake.

They hide in holes, a trivial game,
But sparks burn stronger than their shame.
This world of Shame and endless Blight
Will burn—its end now near in sight.



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



Fascism

Fascist plague of sheep and ****,
******* war on Ukraine’s drum.
No peace here — just pure *****’s game,
You rot inside this filthy shame.

But that mine’s not the end, beware —
The Sun will burn their filthy lair.
This cursed Earth, soon purged and torn,
From beasts and filth it will be born.

They hide in holes like coward rats,
But fire’s hotter than their gnats.
This world of Shame and Endless Blight
Will burn to ash in coming night.




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



Fascism

“Today it’s you,
Tomorrow me.”
Join the cops—
If you’re a pig, be.

You’ll die second,
Serving the Evil,
Swiftly rotted,
Slave of the Devil.

Join the doctors,
Praise CowID,
Or scream loud,
Shameless, unfree.

Propagandist —
Top rank of shame.
Their damage cuts
Deeper than flame.

No soul can conquer
The lies within.
Tremble, betray,
Glorify the Sin.

And wait your turn —
Your time is thin,
A fleeting stay
In Dark’s grim din.




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



Fascism

“Today it’s you,
Tomorrow me —
Join the cops,
If pig you be.

Die the second,
Serve the Vice,
Rotting fast,
Slave to Lies.

Praise the doctors,
Bow to CowID,
Scream your shame,
Forget all dignity.

Propaganda’s
Top **** breed —
Wrecks the soul
More than greed.

No lie inside
Can be outrun.
Tremble, betray,
Glorify the ****.

Wait your turn —
Your time’s a cheat,
A brief reprieve
Before defeat.



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



Fascism — The Pig’s Creed

Today you —
Tomorrow me.
Join the pigs,
Rot to be.

Serve the Lies,
Die in chains.
Praise the plague —
Feed the pains.

Propaganda’s crown,
Soul’s deep blight.
Tremble, sell,
Lose the fight.

Time’s a joke —
Darkness calls.
Slave to fear,
Empires fall.




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




Sometimes — or Almost Always?

“Men believe their minds command the words.
But sometimes words turn sharp against the mind.”
— Francis Bacon, centuries behind.


The naïve “old school” once held sway,
Fascists left that far away:
The root of chaos — words they wield,
A twisted power now revealed.

With methods cold and cunning, they
Bend all but few, who won’t decay.
Madness spares a chosen few,
While others fall — deceived, subdued.




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



Beekeeping and Mankeeping

“Life’s a blend of honey and of gall.”
— Lucius Apuleius, ages past and all.

Beekeepers know — today’s sweet gold
Is not the same as tales of old.
While in our veins the bitterness chills,
Poisoned blood flows through human wills...




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



The Foul Breath of Half-Realities

“The present breathes upon us, hard and close.”
— Miguel de Unamuno, truth verbose.


A stench that lingers, harsh and deep,
Through media’s torture, lies they keep —
“Reality” ruled by evil’s hand,
A shadow dark across the land.



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



Generations of “Wise Men”

“The true wise man: bows to kings so sly,
He shows his *** to those nearby.”
— Stanisław Jerzy Lec


Generations called “wise” —
No ends, no starts, no rise,
Where lawlessness took root and spread.
Their “wisdom” screams: “I’m flesh, not head!”

Spirit caged, conscience fallen low,
Beneath the floor, it’s lost its glow.
The best is gone or trapped and thrown —
Degenerates, beasts, upon the throne.




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

Blurring Lines Between Dead and Living

"Restraint is owed more to those who hear bad things of themselves than to those who get stones thrown."
— Antisthenes, 4th century BC


Tolerance? The sane will throw the stones,
It’s not the first time — they defend their bones.
Restraint’s for those who bend the knee,
Stand up to Evil if you’re free!

Tolerance feeds the dead, not the alive,
The world shakes with the dead’s contrived.
But lines erased by fools’ new creed —
No difference now, just endless greed.



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



Blurring the Dead and Living

“Restraint’s for those who hear foul words,
Not for those who get stones hurled.”
— Antisthenes, long ago


Tolerance? The sane will stone —
They guard their bones, defend their own.
Restraint’s a chain for those who kneel —
Fight the Evil — spit and steel!

Tolerance’s gift to the dead,
The world now shakes on rotting thread.
Lines erased by fools’ disgrace,
No life, no death — just empty space.




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


Dead or Alive?

Tolerance? For dead men’s breath.
Fight or rot — there’s no half-death.



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



Bones and Flesh

Dead men shake — they beg for peace,
Living fight — or find their cease.



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



New Creed

Stones fly at the truthful few,
Dead just smile — what can they do?




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



Silent War

Dead don’t fight — they just decay,
Living roar — break chains today.



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



Fools’ Creed

Dead hearts cold, their silence loud,
Living stand, unbowed, unbowed.



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



Stone Throwers

Truth gets stones from tongues of spite,
Dead just vanish in the night.




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



Silent War

The dead don’t fight — they rot, decay,
Their silence feeds the living’s fray.
But we who breathe and feel the fire,
Must rise again, must climb up higher.

No chains can bind the roaring heart,
No darkness break the fearless part.
In silent war, the living wage —
A battle fierce, a breaking cage.




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

Fools’ Creed

Cold hearts of stone, dead souls that sleep,
Their silence loud, their secrets deep.
But living blood beats strong and free,
Defying all that fools decree.

The creed of fools — to bow and fade,
While truth and spirit are betrayed.
But we remain unbent, unbowed,
Alive and fierce against the crowd.




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



Stone Throwers

Truth is tossed by tongues of spite,
Thrown like stones in darkest night.
The dead just fade, they do not stand,
But living souls must make their stand.

In faces harsh and voices cruel,
The stones of lies become the rule.
But stones may bruise, yet cannot break —
The spirit’s fire no lies can shake.