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!

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.

A little mouse hid in the nook,
Stocking snacks with care it took.
But the cat won’t wait to feast—
Fools find joy in such a beast.


In Russian:

Обожравшийся кот

Мышь забилась в закуток,
Запасая хавчик впрок.
Но не ждёт её котяра:
Мелочь любит лишь лошара.

In films, propaganda blazes,
It's paid for, bold and loud,
While fools consume, their reason grazes,
Their souls and minds enshroud.

But artists—be they poets, writers—
Are harder to confine,
To bridle them with nonsense tighter,
Takes a crippled mind malign.

The gullible trust the screen’s delusion,
And numb their reason more,
Today, in cats, there's more conclusion,
Than humans’ minds explore.

Truth’s scarce—a rare and fleeting ember—
These times are ruled by lies,
Art fades away, lost to dismember,
The world sinks as it dies.


In Russian:

Кино-братия

Пропаганда в фильмах яро
Проступает, потому
Им и платят, а лошары
Зрят в ущерб Душе, уму.

Коль художник, будь поэтом
Иль писателем — на них
Потрудней Уздечку Бреда
Натянуть. Убогий псих

Верит бредням, что в киношках,
Добивая этим ум:
И сегодня больше в кошках
Разуменья. Лжи здесь бум,

Непродажных очень мало —
Вот такие времена.
И уже почти пропало
Всё искусство — мир у Дна.

A poet of deception,
I’ll muddle up your mind.
This world’s a mere invention,
With fools of every kind.

So grease their ears with honey,
And feed them foolish lies.
We bleat beneath the money,
While seeking food and skies.

Dismiss the sharp and bitter,
Refine the vile decay.
But tread with steps that glitter—
Don’t stir the rot, they say.


In Russian:

Лирический герой гнилого мирка

Лирическим героем
Запудрю вам мозги:
Обманный мир построен,
Повсюду дураки,

А потому елеем
Чушь надо увлажнять.
Под ложью знатно блеем,
Цель жрать и спать. Насрать

На те слова, что резки:
Облагородь дурьё,
Но мягонько, не дерзко, —
Не вороши Гнильё.

Blue sky is gleaming,
Leaves turning yellow.
Gloomy and dreaming—
Grey thoughts are mellow.

Pesticides and toxic sprays,
Fake diseases take the stage.
Cures are poison, deaths are sold—
Cowards watch, their silence cold.

"Where violence is frequent, it is endured."
— David Durkheim


A subtler force—deceit refined,
Wrapped in a fear, cruel yet polite.
They’ll bear it all, the witless kind,
If called "the good," if named "the right."

And fools will serve that twisted creed,
If branded bright with virtue’s name—
To please the Beasts who bow and bleed,
Enslaved beneath the Goat’s domain.

The cops, the clerks, the suited swine,
The teachers trained to dim the soul—
All grind the minds by "grand design",
Unaware of their own role.

Corruption thrives, a madhouse reigns,
Among the traitors, cheap and proud.
While few may grasp the hidden chains,
They guide the herd and preach aloud.



In Russian:

Указующие и прочие ...

"Там, где часты насильственные поступки, они терпимы".
Давид Дюркгейм.


Насилие потоньше,
С основой в виде лжи
Коварной, и побольше!,
И стерпят ВСЁ — служить

"Добру" придурки будут,
Лишь назови "добром",
Что нужно тем паскудам,
Что в рабстве под Козлом:

Политики, чинуши,
Менты, "учителя"
Гнобят умы и души
Козлу в угоду, для

Всё большего распада,
Не ведая о том, —
Среди продажных гадов
Всегда сплошной дурдом.

Лишь единицы знают
Системы цель и суть,
Но ловко то скрывают,
К "добру" указывая путь.

Filth instead of honor,
False instead of truth.
The creatures bring a horror —
Eat their gruel uncouth!


In Russian:

Узники Зла и их баланда из подмен

Жесть — за честь;
Ложь — за правду:
ТВАРЕЙ месть —
Жри баланду!

The mouse trap’s bait is barely there,
The fear has gripped the frosty air.
The water's gone, the Pests conspire —
Genocide: Evil’s back on fire.


In Russian:

В мышеловке мало сыра:
Охладилась вся квартира,
И вода исчезла. Твари,
Геноцид: вновь Зло в ударе...

Religions, cults — all shelters weak,
Just chains in yet another streak.
And that is why the powers cheer —
They love when filth is serving near.

You think that **** brings truth to light?
It thrives on lies, enslaves by rite.
No priest, no prophet, no belief
Can free your soul — just bring you grief.

To know the Spirit, look within —
No middleman can cleanse your sin.
They preach and blind, they twist and rant,
But truth is not in what they chant.

Their temples — cold, their fire’s fake,
No sacred link can demons make.
A higher bond will never bloom
Inside a slave who reeks of gloom.

When soul is pure, the sign will shine.
But priesthood’s words are **** and brine.
Their “holy books” all reek the same —
One source: control in Spirit’s name.

Those texts enslave the mind and soul —
Reject their grip, reclaim your whole.
The truth is already in you —
Just purge what’s false, and break on through.

Forget their “heaven,” “hellish” noise —
A joke for fools who lost their voice.
The Spirit can’t be caged or tied,
No gate, no leash, can trap its tide.

As long as you believe their lies,
You’re just a drone in priestly guise.
So drop the flesh, the ego’s skin —
And let the real flame burn within.

Your path is discipline of mind,
Not flagellating flesh, but find
The will to wipe all lies away —
That’s all ascetic path will say.

Turn on your intuition’s glow —
It’s yours, it leads where truth will flow.
But never parrot ancient crap —
That’s poison sold in holy wrap.

Since childhood, they have hunted you,
With "love" that kills, and “truth” untrue.
Religion’s ***** chokes and binds —
It’s aimed to break awakening minds.

So center on the Spirit, fast —
Be strong, and soft, and free at last.
Abandon hearsay, trash their lies —
Ten megatons in each disguise.

No bombs are needed now to **** —
The lies already break your will.
A tidal wave of filth and fraud —
A clog of death that mocks your God.

But Harvest Time is drawing near —
This madhouse Earth will disappear.
The flock will burn, the beasts will fall —
Those soulless brutes who heard no call.

They spat on Spirit, Mind they sold —
Now dead inside, corrupt and cold.
A trash heap of *******, slaves
Will rot in pre-forgotten graves.

No donkey steps in Spirit's Hall —
Only the wise may hear the call.
Seek Dwellings of the Spirit’s Fire —
If Life you want, if you aspire.

You sleep — that’s why you still are here.
This hell was built to cage and steer.
And “Godly world”? Just one more lie —
Now wake, reclaim your right to fly.

No more excuses, shame, or fear.
The path is clear, the truth is near.
No cowardice, no lazy game —
Let Spirit burn, and know your name.

Be open to the Higher Mind,
And all the chains will fall behind.

A "scientific breakthrough"
Is rooted in belief—
In vague and hazy theories,
Yet proof is just as brief.

A test confirms the hunches,
Or bends to fit the claim,
And tangled minds will stumble,
Deceived by twisted games.

For faith is all that matters!
Without it—nothing stays.
The rare, cold skeptic shatters
Illusions with a phrase:

"Absurd!"—but none will listen.
His voice is drowned once more.
While blind belief’s dominion
Drags reason to the floor.

The scholars turned to preachers,
Yet wear a different guise—
Their sermons built on profit,
Their dogma sold as lies.

Yes, truth still leaves its traces,
Yet nonsense floods the land—
Like fleas upon the spirit,
Like chains upon the mind.

Mice, stay quiet—geese are bolder.
Gadgets hum as nights grow colder.
"Honk, honk, honk!"—their minds obey,
Drenched in darkness, washed away.


In Russian:

Мыши — тише, гуси — гаже.
Га-га-га заменит гаджет,
Также норку, где тепло:
Мозги промывает Зло.

The warranty's expired, the label's torn,
A fact so grim, it leaves the soul forlorn.
Our small world drifts toward Fascism’s cruel embrace,
On the brink of collapse, it finds its place.

Repairing mass production bears too high a cost—
Communism tried, but its gamble was lost.
Now a new bio-robot will take up the scene,
Such are the changes in this Hellish machine.

We are bio-robots, exceptions so few,
Lost in the darkness where ignorance grew.
No Master returns to restore and redeem,
For Satan presides where fools chase a dream.

A deceitful dream—its name is Degradation,
While the Earth, long oppressed, endures occupation.
Yet hope still flickers: a Cataclysm looms,
To purge the satanic lies that consume.


In Russian:

Люди как товар

Гарантийный талон на товаре просрочен —
Удручающий факт признавать нету мочи:
В Мастерскую Фашизма мирок устремился,
И в преддверии слома он вдруг очутился,

Ведь затраты большие в ремонте ШТАМПОВКИ —
Показал коммунизм со своей "перековкой".
БИОРОБОТ ДРУГОЙ к нам приходит на смену —
Вот такие грядут в сём Аду перемены.

Биороботы мы. Единиц исключений
Недостаточно в мраке тупых поколений,
Чтобы Мастер вернулся и всё починил.
Сатана в мастерской, в сказку верит дебил.

Сказка лживая, имя её Деградация.
А Земля, и давно, под ТВАРЬЁМ — в оккупации.
Правда, есть и надежда: грядёт Катаклизм —
Уничтожит подмявший Дурьё сатанизм.

The shirt now clings still tighter near,
As Evil spreads its reign of fear,
Sows strife and terror, bold and sly,
Crushing Truth and Freedom dry.

The mindless herd of “sick” obeys,
Their “sacred shot” now wins the race
Against pure strength and hardy will—
Yet sheep are never hard to ****.

A shame for Spirit, Mind, and Soul,
The torture deepens, takes its toll.
The lie persists, the herd’s in line—
Led to slaughter, one more time.

The Age of Filth, with iron fist,
Brings forth a fascist global twist.
The fools submit, they bend with ease—
The muzzle years have proved all these.


In Russian:

Своя рубашка ЕЩЁ ближе к телу

Рубашка стала ближе к телу.
В том преуспело Зло, умело
Раздоры, страхи насаждая,
Свободу, Правду добивая.

Тупое стадо лже-болезней
Боится: стал шмурдяк "полезней",
Чем физкультура и закалка.
А впрочем, бараньё не жалко —

Позор для Духа и Сознанья.
Тотальной ложью истязанье
Продолжится, и на закланье
Отправят тем стада. Век Срани

Фашисткой в мире наступает.
Тьма идиотов подчиняет —
То всем намордник показал
В говнида годы. Мир пропал...

The Global Asylum

An asylum—it's not dreaming,
You've been trapped here since your birth.
Hope of reason? Faint and fleeting—
Cops and media prove its worth.

Schools will aid the mind’s corrosion,
Dumbed-down drones are their design.
"Faith," a servant of coercion,
Crushes every spark inside.

Madmen's howls—self-termination,
"Plague" and panic seal our fate.
CowID showed the grand foundation—
Genocide will close the gate...



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



The Global Asylum

An asylum—learn to love it,
Or you’ll suffer, torn apart.
Seek the HIGHER? Doom’s above it—
"Allah’s wrath" will pierce your heart.

Madmen fill the city sectors,
Wards of folly, lost in haze.
Not compliant? Sick’s the vector—
Wars and "plagues" will set the phase.

Sanity is near-extinction,
Barely few can truly see.
Madness leads to self-destruction—
Culling all in apathy.

Streets lie silent, void of thunder,
No revolt, no rebel spark.
Obedient, the herd drifts under,
Falling meekly to the dark.



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



"Liberation"

They break the chains—yet soon, another
Will rise to rule, to claim his throne.
And fools believe, time after time:
"Here comes the Light! We're free! It's done..."



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



The Prison

A mind confined,
A fortress blind,
Where hollow lies
Consume the soul—
And all that’s left
Is rot and cold.
But hear your Heart—
It knows the road!



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



Supreme Effort

The highest league—
No books will guide.
No one to follow—
Go to the edge, or die.



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



Sword and Shield

A shield, a sword—defense in place
For genocide’s triumphant race.
None shall rest, none shall hide,
While monsters rule with wicked pride.

They've trapped the fools, the weak, the blind,
Who lost all honor, crushed their mind.
Stay away from twisted herds—
Obedient slaves to evil words.

Take no part in their grand scheme,
A world deranged—a madman’s dream.



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



The Proud "Rise"

I rose up strong—no more to crawl!
Yet soon lay down, a change so strange...
Now kicking me is twice as easy—
With cheerful force, as if it's fate.



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



The State’s "Care" for the Weak

Don’t reach for aid—don’t play their game,
Or you’ll be marching to your grave.
Beg for scraps—they’ll wave the flag,
Then cast the helpless to their fate.



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



The "Consciousness" of the Mob

An amoeba’s mind—so hollow, so weak...
The next stage? Germs—they follow, they seek.
Their guides? The laws of fascist chains,
That lead to rot, decay, and shame.

But if you stand, refuse to kneel,
A traitor to their crooked deal—
Then to the soulless, blind, and numb,
You are the guilt they’re hiding from.



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



The Death of Art

Art’s profaned—just hollow pleasure,
Not a path to Light or truth.
Drenched in filth, it warps the spirit,
Feeds the madness, fuels the noose.

Darkness drives the twisted vision,
Lost is art that dares to heal.
No more muses, no more answers,
Only echoes cold and still.

Few remain—unseen, unheard,
Crushed beneath a mindless herd.
Science rots, and art decays,
While the soulless world obeys.

Now all fades—no depth, no feeling,
Greed's dominion leaves no trace.
Sensitivity is dying…
Armageddon takes its place.



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



A "Sip of Freedom"

A sip of freedom laced with poison,
Half-truths and half-measures blend,
Essence of lies, in every portion—
Drink up, young pioneer, till the end!



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



Police Dramas  

Police shows—like Soviet syrup,  
Sticky, slow, and dull in tone.  
They need a drink to wake them up,  
To snap out of their endless drone.  

Immigrants all say it clear,  
The Soviet’s back, it’s here to stay.  
No need for talent, just the fear,  
As lies oppress and lead astray.  



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



Filth  

"Simple is worse than theft."
—Proverb


Filth is praised as joy, not sin,  
Purity's called "simple"—win!  
They claim it’s worse than stealing gold,  
Perverting nature, truth’s grown cold.  

Generations follow suit,  
The obedient fool now absolute.  
A twisted norm—what's left to save?  
As horned "god-father" digs the grave.  

He turns the Earth to Hell’s domain,  
A corrupt majority reigns in vain.



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



The Scavenger Good

Robin Hood was good, no doubt,
But true wealth is in the mind.
Few will take the hard way out—
Wade through filth the vile left behind.

Darkness crowned the fools as kings,
Blinding reason, spreading blight.
Now the stench of evil clings,
Drowning wisdom out of sight.

Let a New Hood rise and fight,
Sweeping lies from where they brood!
Rot and falsehood choke the light—
Oh, how shameless creatures feud...



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



Goebbels' media all around,

The **** have crushed the world, unbound,
And the obedient fool
Falls, used up, as a mere tool.

CowID, the war, and soon,
The digital death camp's doom,
Cities fall beneath their reign,
Crushing moths in endless strain.



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



Iron Man

Swimming’s better, when you can,
Than running on a hard terrain—
The road is tough, but water’s span
Is always soft, a gentle gain.

With running, micro-injuries,
You’ll often face, no matter what,
But after, bliss is hard to seize—
And that’s not always a sure shot.

Run too much, swim too long—
A combo’s not the perfect art;
Better drift, if metal’s wrong,
When weary steel begins to part.



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



Upside Down

The world is long since turned around,
"Up" is just a heap of sound.
Who speaks of this, without a care,
Will find themselves in flames laid bare.



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



Patriotism

The crap is OURS!
Be proud, stand tall!
That sour curd,
Turns into gall.

That sour curd,
Is the nation’s mind.
Strike! Not ours!
To the flames, we bind!



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



Cycling and Beyond

Climb the hill—there’s no one near,
The descent’s empty, or so it’s clear.
The ones ahead don’t even see,
The group is small—just fly and be free!

And life’s the same—false peaks arise,
Then crash, as you fall from the skies.
So go alone, and you will find,
Where the Top is, and where’s behind.



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



Nonsense

Nonsense rules the world today,
Growing bolder, come what may.
And the people, less than kind,
Darkness spreads, with twisted mind...



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



Delusional Independence

Independence… Do you believe,
You fool, in this, so naive?
This world’s a fiery, hellish place,
Who rules it? Silence fills the space.

CowID showed the cruel truth clear,
No nations left, just void and fear.
Fools are lost in lies they spread—
The ones that lead to thoughts of dread.



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



The Power of Darkness and Its Changing REGIMES

A regime built on lies, it stands,
Once swept away, more lies demand,
Laying the base for chains anew,
Yet call it tyranny—nothing true.

"Republic" is the word they use,
To hype their "reforms" in the news.
"Reforms" are masks, while deep beneath,
Dark power reigns—who needs belief?

"Parliaments" in the CowID age,
With mouths of filth, in their dark cage,
They sit in silence, all comply,
To creatures' rule—no questions why.



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



Prison of the body, soul’s despair,
The mind, like chains, is trapped in snare!
From here, escape with all your might:
No peace—just hopelessness in sight.



--- Total 23 poems. ---

Winter. Frozen — not I, but my mind.
My soul, like embers, once gave me its heat.
Shards of dark thoughts in my head I find,
But to rise to Fury, I dare not compete.

Fury will warm — not a moan, but a roar,
A final cry to shake the earth’s core,
In a world where deceit is the common lore,
A world so wretched, wild, and poor.


In Russian:

Зима в душе и уме

Зима. Замёрз. Не я, а ум.
Душа как угли — грелся ею.
В уме ошмётки тяжких дум —
Подняться к Яри я не смею.

Согреет Ярость. Не мычать,
А изойтись последним криком
В мирке, обычаем где лгать, —
В мирке убогом, страшном, диком.

A cat and mouse,
Peace in the house—
They’ve made amends!
No lies, no doubts?
Easier for them to play nice,
Than for folks in Darkness to unite,
To drive the devils to their Hell—
The human stench has cast its spell.
Their wits dulled, their strength undone—
A world of fools, where most are numb.


In Russian:

Не сплотиться...

Кот и мышь —
Гладь и тишь:
Подружились!
Не пиздишь?
Легче этим подружиться,
Чем людишкам в Тьме сплотиться
И погнать чертей в их Ад:
Одолел людишек СМРАД,
Оглупленье подкосило —
Большинство в мирке дебилы...

What is an automatic gun?
A sender of bullets, swift and grim?
A servant of Evil, a deadly one,
Listening to what CREATURES spin?

Believing lies, obeying commands,
A soulless machine of ruthless design—
Through poisoned minds, by unseen hands,
They corrupt humanity, line by line.

The stronger the CREATURES' hold grows,
The more of these machines arise—
Now, as the tide of darkness flows,
"Marines" are legions in disguise.


In Russian:

"Морпехи"

Что такое автомат?
Отправитель пуль на цели?
Также Злу покорный гад,
Слышащий, что ТВАРИ мелют,

Верящий в любую чушь,
Исполняющий приказы —
Механизм! Избытьем Душ
В биомассе как заразы

ТВАРИ заняты, и чем
Б'ольшие ТВАРЬЯ успехи,
Автоматов больше тем —
Большинством сейчас "морпехи".

No way ahead—
All else is misread.
Only a Doom
Will bury the gloom.



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



Exploiting "homeland" once again,
And all the nonsense tied to it—
It breeds misshapen, soulless men,
As darker days ignite the pit.



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



Do Russians long for war?—
Go ask the Devil, search for more.
The land is drowned in Satan’s creed,
Sunk to the depths of darkest deed.



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



Inverse Proportion

Filth we spread and breed anew,
Fear and darkness growing, too.
Thus, the Mind will rot away—
See the world in filth today.

CowID showed it, war revealed:
Few still stand with thoughts unsealed.
Not just puppets, not just blind—
Only those who use their mind.



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



To die the perfect way—
The hardest task, they say.
No hope for light to stay—
The darkness won’t decay.



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



Running Against Stress

Wind is biting, steps are tight,
Mind is drowning in its fight—
Worse than frost or raging air.
Run, my friend, and heal with care.



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



Rule of the Pseudo-States

The aged fiends, were they in charge?
Or was it puppets, hands at large?
All the troubles, all the pain—
Planned by "gray" consultants' chain.

The elders sit, but not alone,
They're steered like pawns, not on their own.
Advisors—**** of highest class,
They fit in any ruling mass.

From monsters runs a hidden thread,
Yet fools can't see where they are led.
The blinded herd will march in line,
Unknowing slaves to the design.

A few could see, yet failed to break
The feeble thread for reason’s sake.
For in the world of hollow minds,
True wisdom barely stays alive.



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



Rule of the "Nation"

The mob’s out of touch with the mind,
So lies flow thick, with fear entwined.
Feast on dread and serve the night,
Bow to darkness, hide from light.



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



Outdated Notion of Selling the Soul

No need to sell the soul to dark,
Under lies' control, we sink and spark.
Demons rot where they must stay—
By silence bound, we serve their sway.

Through faith or ideas, most believe,
In Satan's filth, they’re forced to grieve.
Triumph of beasts, it spreads around,
While truth and light are rarely found.

Only in struggle with the foe
Can the soul be saved from woe.
For fear and lies will break the thread,
And bind the slave, so hope is dead.



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



Believe in Nothing!

Slavery hasn’t gone away—
It spreads through night, it rules the day.
Impairment hides the deepest fall,
The beasts deceive and blind us all.

Soon in False Veil, the mind will break,
The last spark of reason they’ll take.
Madness reigns, as CowID showed,
More lies will spread down every road.

The box of doom will scream again,
And fools will trust the lies in vain.
Hell is here, don’t be deceived,
The devil’s grip is tight and cleaved!



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



Don't Create Problems for the Flock

Leave the herd to fatten fast,
No need to stir them—let them last.
Make up new "illnesses" to spread,
As they sink deeper, misled.



--- Total 11 poems. ---

"Super Trouper beams are gonna blind me
But I won't feel blue
Like I always do
'Cause somewhere in the crowd, there's you".
From the song "Super Trouper" by ABBA.


Super trouper blind the trooper -
New Pops Soldier has weakened.
Poor thing fell into the stupor -
Has destroyed the all weekend.

The hollow weight of this pathetic earth —
It rots within, a joke devoid of worth.
A "two-in-one": free cheese and pitch-black lies,
With maggots squirming where the truth once dies.

It’s full of holes — collapse is drawing near,
Deserved decay, corruption crystal-clear.
Not just poor taste — it's worse than one could dream:
This CONSUMER shames the cosmic scheme.




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




Flowers of Evil

"The city's coming, surely.
The garden soon will bloom..."
But when the **** rule poorly,
You harvest steel and doom.

The **** have built before us —
The Soviets made their bed.
Now new betrayers swarm us,
Like Judas, born and bred.

They’ll plant their seeds and gather
A camp — for human clay.
But now they lie and slather
Without a hint of shame.

With CowID came the slaughters,
Then war — their great delight.
To sink us in black waters
Takes lies, not even might.

And at the sunken station,
They’ll raise their camp once more —
Red cross of degradation,
And dumbness by the score.




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



Corruption as Core

Corruption crowned as greatness —
That’s what this world adores.
While mind and truth and straightness
Are crimes it now abhors!




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



Corruption reigns —
And courage chains.



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



The "Yum-Yum" Herd

The "Yum-Yum" herd is easy to erase —
Just dress a Goat in fleece and twist the phrase.
He screams out "Wolves!" while grinning through the lie,
As bloated beasts keep feeding till they die.

Their “minds” are wrecked — it’s fear and fake control.
With lies and dread, you dominate the whole.
Goats proved it well with fake CowID crusades —
This world now chokes in shame the cosmos hates.




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



Lies

Degenerates, decay, disgrace —
Behold the "new world" in your face.
Lies are money, bold and bare —
Truth can’t even breathe the air.

Lies now rule the power game,
Lies alone will bring you fame.
Lie a lot — you’ll rise, you’ll thrive.
Tell the truth? You won't survive.

If you don’t lie — down you go.
This world’s a sewage pit below:
The bigger the ****, the higher the seat —
The filth floats up. That's their elite.

The pressure builds — pure lies, pure stench,
A nonstop stream from every trench.
Not a day without that spray —
It grows. It floods. No plug, no way.

With no more clogs, the filth now flows
Above our heads, it overthrows.
Now EVERYONE has hit the floor —
And this rock bottom? There’s no more.




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



The Worship of Mammon

Forget all nature, truth, or sense —
Mammon now earns reverence.
Refuse to cheat, refuse to steal?
The beasts will call you weak — not real.

The **** all bow to Mammon's name,
Their god of greed, their holy flame.
What rules the world? Just cash and lies —
In megatons, beneath gold skies.

No truth remains — just fraud and fog:
Behold the Throne of Lies — their ******* log.




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


Stupidity and Sloth

Sloth and dumbness.
Dumb and slack.
And again! Again!! Attack!!!
All it breeds is rot and shame —
A world disgraced, a crawling flame.



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



Sloth! Stupidity! Encore!
That’s the rot they all adore.



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


Stupidity’s Old Game

Dumbing down is nothing new —
Idiots made, that’s all they do!
Once the pen, now cameras choke,
Spewing filth with every stroke.

For the masses, "info" lies,
"Education" — foul disguise.
Only few still guard their mind,
While the herd goes dumb and blind.




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



More Insight

More insight, less “thought” —
Other minds’ nonsense caught
Feeds decay — rot’s embrace,
This world’s logic’s fallen face.

Logic reigns — the world’s in dust,
**** sow lies and fear and lust.
They preach their rule, they cast their spell,
While media breaks the mind to hell.

But heart is insight’s spark,
Mind’s decay is cold and dark.
Heart and mind in strict command —
That’s salvation’s final stand.




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



Doubt Means Enemy

Who doubts is always labeled foe —
That’s how all lousy “-isms” grow.
Built on lies, a twisted scheme,
Communism’s no rare extreme.

Each “-ism” hides a fascist core,
******’s second layer, more and more.
At base it’s pure idiocy —
Human ****, a travesty.

It’s all around, the bottom line,
And soon we’ll burn this cursed spine.
But not by “-ism” shall it end —
Some other fate will break and mend.




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



The Earth’s Disgrace

Man who babbles,
Wildly patient,
Is he truly wise?
Among the evil,
Dull and complacent...
He’s the Earth’s disgrace — no lies!




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



The Weight of False Knowledge

The weight of learned lies drags down,
Or pulls you to a sinking ground.
But once you ditch that nonsense whole,
You’ll find relief for body, soul.

That ******* haunts — a second pit,
Where sharpness dies, where senses quit.
By day and night it weighs you down,
A plague of “sciences” that drown.

These ticks have latched, they cling and ****,
So cleanse yourself — get free, get struck
By truth instead — break off those chains,
And leave behind their pointless pains.




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



The Zoo

From birth you get your "gifts" in heaps,
All useless, like dead men’s keeps.
Consciousness lost, a vacant shell —
For many, fools who sink and dwell.

The mass is dumb, the schizoid’s might,
A fascist stronghold, ruling blight.
They pour their filth with force extreme,
A torrent drowning every dream.

This pressure sweeps the soul away,
A sentence passed we bear today.
From birth you got these "gifts" galore —
Throw them out! They’re zoo fodder, poor.




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



The Global Pleasure Grinder

They grind their taste buds day and night —
The “elite” in sellout’s spite.
Hours spent in fancy halls,
Is this elite, or just their thralls?

The world’s drowned deep in murky slime,
That rotten realm drags us in time.
Honest, brave — a rarity,
But Grinding Pleasure’s law we see.




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



Dumb Boxer in a False Fury

In welterweight, a dumb brute fights —
“Average” heights provoke his sights.
His vision’s clouded, lost in haze,
From many blows that blur his gaze.

The ring’s soaked deep in raging lies,
You didn’t walk — you fought for prize.
Evil set the trap in youth,
Hooked you in with stolen truth.

Run off the ring before they strike,
An uppercut, a swinging pike.
Lies punch hard, they never quit —
Total falsehood’s brutal hit.




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



Average Temperature in the Asylum

The fever’s rising through the ward —
From here comes pain you can’t afford.
A nightmare haunts us all in sleep,
But waking’s hell — too dark, too deep.

Is this a mental ward? It snores,
Farts stink, it breathes foul stench outdoors.
A madhouse? No — it’s no delusion,
Call it what’s true: a place of Ruin.




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



Tedious,
Nasty, vile.
Is it hard?
No — just hostile.
Dull and poor,
Sickening, sore.
How wretched all,
So base, so small...
No god here?
Is He dead?
Or never near?
Or mad instead?
Evil reigns —
The final thread.



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



Europe

Is it rotting, burning bright,
Scorched beneath the furious light?
Few can grasp the whole truth clear —
Dulling minds grow year by year.

Once, kids painted suns in red,
Yellow rays above their head.
Now the sun’s a pale white ghost —
Last days come for all the lost.

And the dead here crowd the skies,
Chaos calls — to dust, all flies.
Those alive, with souls not mice,
Soon will stand before the vice.

After death, a rising flame —
New world where the Spirit claims.
Before the end, resist they must —
This alone remains in trust.



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



Ambitions, "Honor"

Ambitions, “honor,”
Desires, striving,
Positions, pride—
Claims colliding.

Around, there’s empty space—
Hands drop down low.
But not just giving place—
They break from boredom’s blow.

There’s only one way through,
One feat to own:
Deceive your fate,
Keep moving on.




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



Analyzing Your Failures

To analyze your fails is key—
Only then can flight begin.
In this bleak, corrupt debris,
Fools repeat the same old sin.

They step again on traps well-known,
So sort your own, and others’ too.
Or else your sharpness turns to stone—
Without it, madness breaks through.

The mind becomes a plague instead,
Deceived on every side and bent,
Fear drives beasts to wars they dread,
Dumb sheep to slaughter, blindly sent.




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



Maximum Intensity

The plague of this wretched world
Will **** — no chance, always so:
Your consciousness raw and uncurled,
Intensity almost too low.

Intensity plus reason’s strain,
Years long, all else just a haze —
The only way to break the chain:
Beneath the crust, the horror stays.

Only few can bear this weight;
Chance is fickle, many fall—
Like seabirds lost to oil’s fate,
Trapped within the toxic sprawl.

The plague of this broken sphere
Spreads like oil across the ground.
Free cheese from oil they engineer—
We’re taught to suffer, chained and bound.

Evil trains us from the start,
Calling it good as it grows.
Intensity’s the sole true art
To keep us from becoming those.




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



Another Road to Another "Bright Future"

Another road
To "future"—so hollow!
Got a headache?
A quick escape to follow!

The herd, they’ll bait —
That’s how they control.
A fool like a mule,
With blinders on patrol.

A veil across the eyes,
A carrot just ahead.
The future’s a lie —
New blinders instead.




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



*******

Annoying filth of a mad, insane world —
“Shield yourself,” or in **** you’ll drown and twirl.
Your mind may be lonely, cold, and bare,
But in that crap you’re a louse or parasite rare.



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


Crapworld

Shield — or drown in filth and lies.
Stay sane — or be the bugs they prize.



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



The ****** of Mind

"Much learning does not teach understanding."
— Heraclitus


It doesn’t teach — it kills instead,
Chokes reason’s roots inside your head.
They cram your memory by force
To breed a slave’s insane discourse.

The overload, combined with lies
(Where evil's "knowledge" always hides),
Will blur what’s simple, clear, and true —
Then fear will break the rest of you.




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



Herd Instinct

The arrogance of fools so bold,
Unbridled greed you cannot quell,
With blind faith and hearts grown cold,
And cowardice — the herd’s own hell.




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



The Proper Little World

(Based on Bertrand Russell's quote: “To live right means hypocrisy; to think right — stupidity.”)

"Proper" means obeying
Rules that rot the mind —
Templates for betraying
Truth you've left behind.

"Motherland" compels you,
Masked in noble cause,
To suppress what's real in you
By its savage laws.

Soulless, dull compliance,
Dream, consume, obey —
Bow to those in triumph
Wallowing in decay.

Each year grows more twisted,
Lies more bold and loud.
That world — rule-enlisted —
Will die without a shroud.




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



How Long Will We Moo “How Long!”
(While swallowing filth with a grin…)

How long will we moo out “How long!”
Yet swallow this vile little game?
In this pathetic life-singalong,
Only Death will untangle the shame.

She’ll draw the last line, mark the coward,
The soul that stayed true — and the fraud.
The end’s not far off: life’s devoured
By madness… The flames now applaud.

For the Sun — growing wilder, more searing —
Will burn what was bright to the bone.
Just look out the window: it’s clearing…
By morning, you’ll see what’s been shown.




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



How long, you cattle, will you moo —
Yet lick the boots that trample you?



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



“Cognitive” Onanism

So much clutter, distraction, deceit —
A circus of facts, all devoid of the core.
Where cretinous chatter and buzzwords compete,
They fog up the mind ever more.

Fake science keeps silence where truth should ignite:
You are spirit — a flame, not a shell.
But smothered in trivia, buried in blight,
The essence gets lost in their hell.



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



They teach you the fog, not the flame —
Forget who you are. That’s their game.



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



"Upbringing" — a pile of habits,
Rituals wrapped in moral jackets.
In this rotten world, to dare
Just means bumps and blank despair.



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



Dare to rise? You’ll just get bruised —
That's how slaves are mass-produced.




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



Gutta-percha men,
Involution served on plates,
Slugs devour filth and lies,
Chanting "Allah’s will dictates."

“Submit, believe in God,
And curb your restless mind —
All answers lie within the books,”
A dish from Hell defined.




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



Prince of This World

A hot-dog god,
A king "two in one,"
Harsh and cold,
The madhouse’s son.

The madhouse devours —
**** and lies.
— Like cattle, folks? —
Multiply fear, despise.

He’s master of lies,
In masks, he’s skilled.
To serve him is
Shame — a cursed ****.

The cursed **** comes —
Grab the cash flow!
— How to be cattle? —
Accept the lies, the woe.




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



Doclets — Mengele Nervously Smokes

Here’s the CowID **** —
No shame runs deeper.
Fake AIDS warm-up —
Tolerance to the creeper.

Next come the pests,
All kinds of plagues,
They’ll take it all — CowID
Seems bliss in their cages.




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



The Poet Sometimes Raves

The poet sometimes runs with nonsense —
The rhyme leads far off track.
If choking in the stench around you,
A touch of madness won’t crack.

In madness, all the world’s absurd,
When total idiot’s reign
Becomes the norm, and wicked times
Are measured by Satan’s stain.



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



“A Hard Nut of Knowledge”?

A schnitzel of "knowledge," laced with lies,
You eat the poison deep inside —
You're just a pawn where hatred flies,
Where vile beasts breed and multiply.

The mind’s a nut that takes a blow,
From heavy lies it cracks and breaks.
The more you “know,” the more you owe —
For love’s a thing your heart forsakes.

Simplicity with peasant’s mind,
And vision born within the heart —
Unlike the “knowledge” of the blind,
Is what makes love a true art.




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



Total Madness and the Poet

To die a poet—
No greater bliss,
Than not to bow
To all the abyss,
To leave a mark
With furious fire,
Though nerves may snap,
And earth conspire—
If burden not,
Then truth was sired!



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



The Pit

If the Creator’s plan for you
Is just a pit to bear,
Enduring evil’s nothing new—
It’s death of spirit there.

It cuts down all who climb the peak,
As ever has been so—
No contrast now, the truth is bleak:
“Up top” is just pure woe.



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



Victory of the ****

Thanks to comrade Gates, they say,
For childhood “bright” and free—
The computer took the throne today,
For plebs, a tool to be.

Before, a tool, but now it’s just
One endless app to scroll.
You live like in a desert dust,
Where lifeless breezes roll.

Doubtful versions sweep away
All sense with stupid fights.
They turn us all to fools each day,
Only “Classmates” hold tight.

True talks are rare—your neighbor’s face
Unknown in concrete cells.
Consciousness lost, the ****’s embrace
Strikes hard; it casts its spells.

The last of spirit, mind, and light
Shrinks down, then fades unseen.
Only nonsense reaches sight—
The **** has won, obscene.




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



So-Called "Culture"

A stake of aspen in pseudo-culture’s chest,
Drive it deep and walk on light, at best:
A foolish loser buys the shallow fake—
That “culture” stands on fools who take.

True Spirit’s daring, reaching for the Light,
The soul’s own pulse, its genuine fight.
But in that broke, pretend charade,
No answer lives—just empty parade.




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



Themes

Memes serve up their shallow themes —
A challenge to dull all minds, it seems:
With nonsense, they decay the wise,
In memes, the spawn of lies arise.

Expose the false, the half-truth’s shade,
Bring light where darkness tries to fade.
Or we’ll be lost — no time to stall,
Strike down the lies — or lose it all!




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



Pol ***, ******, and Putler

Pol ***’s sweat earned him a role—
A freakish camp to rule the whole,
A country sized like prison walls,
Where terror grips and silence falls.

No need for camps — it’s all the same:
Wherever rage fuels fiendish game,
They spill the blood, the leader’s throne—
Don’t touch the smartest one alone!

The master helm who leads ahead,
Crushing all who dare to tread.
All dissenters — dealt away,
Lost beneath the shadow’s sway.

And Putler, double-faced and sly,
A runt before the great gone by.
He topped even ******’s hell,
Built a nightmare none can quell.




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



The Boredom of the Global Herd

Boredom’s not a beauty’s face—
It’s a sign of drained-out grace.
When you’re penned like common stock,
And that pen’s a messy block,

You can fade away, run dry
In anything — they’ll **** you dry.
All your strength the beasts will drain,
Then beat you down to break your strain.




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



Cheaters and Murra

The ******* deal the crooked hands —
Cheaters always hold command.
They must win, no room for shame,
This world’s a ruthless, ***** game.

If you’re not a cheat, you’re low,
But what’s “top”? Just scraps that flow—
Like a sludge pit, stinking, vile.
“Two-in-one” spray fools with style—
Thousands bask in foul perfume,
Calling stench a scent’s costume.

Propaganda’s lying howl?
No—it’s news, a sickly growl.
Murra rots in every crack—
That’s your “progress,” face the fact!
Cast out doubt in cheats’ domain—
And they’ll lie with brazen strain...




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



We Are Ours, We Build the New... Madness

"We are ours, we build a new world..."
The anthem cries, “International!”


The impossible becomes real,
While what’s real’s a crazy deal:
Hard to grasp, but clear as gas—
Total lies that poison fast.

In this killer’s suffocating grip,
Truth and mind begin to slip.
A half-dead soul must face the crowd—
The New Madness shouts aloud:
New #******* End, fierce and proud...




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



The Race’s End

Monotony of shallow thrills,
The ****** chase for cash and fame—
The **** who lose the roots and wills,
Forget the heart, obey the brain.

The mind, once servant, breaks its chains,
And falls to ruin, lost, abused.
Forgetfulness in lies remains—
The fate of generations fused.

A rotten world, caught in the race,
The finish line—a deathly prize.
Blind liars mix the peak and base,
Confused beneath deceivers’ lies.




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



The Eternal and the Human

Too little of the ETERNAL —
Too much of just the human.
This gnome’s a fleeting signal,
A joke, a mere buffoon.

His mind is small and empty —
Books shallow, plain and cheap;
Lies flood the world aplenty,
Where souls are lost, not deep.

But if the soul’s not vanished —
Through pain breaks into Light,
Through lies and rot, unbanished —
***** doubts! Embrace the fight!




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



A Clamp for Fools

A clamp? — just a clip!
Truth? — a lie so thick!
All’s absurd:
Malice, fear, a ***** trick.

Lies that bind? —
How’s that fit?
Fear turns souls
To creatures unfit.

Lies on fear —
The whole **** clamp:
Russia’s crushed,
In dust and stamp.



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



All the Content of "Normal" Mind Is Clinical Madness

Clinical madness —
The core of "mind" they say.
What’s the real answer? —
Cast false knowledge away,
And journey inward —
Toward the Spirit’s bright light.
No other path here —
None left in sight.



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



A tough and fearsome task it is —
Not to be the beast that sways and squats.
If you’re a bee that flits on roses,
Those roses face eternal threats and losses.

The roses trampled — that’s no surprise:
The fragile, pure here doomed to die.
Grow thicker skin, let tusks arise —
Be the world’s elephant, strong and wise.




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



******-Up State

Tubercular thoughts decay,
Words spew out like *****’s spray:
Around no humans — just mere sums,
And in your head, the nonsense drums.

From vile, total lies you choke,
No other choice but silent smoke.
If you’re smart, bold, true, and free —
Don’t lose your mind in misery.

‘Cause freaking out is way too late —
The world’s a wreck, it’s lost its fate.
On the horizon, grim and tense,
******-up state raises its hand immense...



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


People?

Look around. Are those all humans?
Or just Satan’s icon pack?
Is that food or demon’s cumin —
Hell’s meat platter? Dreams go black.

Darkness, madness — that’s their "thinking",
Or is Purest Mind in there?
Are they sheep for slaughter, shrinking?
Or are humans really where

Shame is branded as “freedom,”
Truth replaced with crafted lies,
Mutant freaks that serve the system
Guard “Constitutions” in disguise.

Freedom is the space for making,
For the Pure-Souled to create.
Tyranny, though, strips and breaks 'em —
Turns them all to meat for plate.

Light is scarce. The Dark is swelling —
It’s a death mark for the Soul.
Breeds are raised through this dark spelling:
Dead ones wrapped in breathing role.

They have fouled and ***** the Planet,
Murdered Nature, left a stain.
Only corpses hear the sonnets
Of the Lie — and most of it is death for brains.




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



Longing

Guts in bowls — the cats are glad.
Is that cure for feeling bad?
Don’t you dare suppress the gloom —
Only fools make grief their plume.

Aren’t you homesick down in Hell
With the crazed who think they’re well?
Few exceptions, few awake.
Madness here is no mistake.

Genocide, a centuries' art —
Mass-producing fools by heart.
Better call it: Slavery’s spawn,
Built on madness, bred since dawn.

That’s the scheme the beasts defend:
Dumb and silent to the end.
Counting chance, the poor blind throng
Sinks in numbness all along.

Grief and lies — how not to feel?
Guts in bowls — the feline meal —
Even cats have smarter wit
Than a SOLD-OUT IDIOT.



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



Foam — then fade:
Dull was the sire.
All betrayed —
The world’s a pyre...



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



EU — the Union of the Gut
Beer bellies sag, the minds are shut.
You fly right in — they weigh your worth:
Just raw supply, not soul or birth.

The “people” — cattle, bought and sold,
Their lives reduced to profit mold.
Above it all, the lying glaze —
Believe it once — you're lost for days.




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



Rotten lies, half-truths, and fiction —
That’s the mix of their “science” game.
End result? A fool’s submission
To the yoke of ****** for fame.



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




Weird young fellow...
Dumb as wood.
Brain is jello,
Spirit — no good.



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



Selling ******

They sell themselves without a fight —
So cheap, those filthy, crawling swine...
They think that death is out of sight,
And ******* seems to suit them fine.

They trade and stab without regret,
As if betrayal never ends.
But Human burns at sunset —
And Bedlam’s fire ascends.




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




Stop Your Hiding — Face the Hell
All around — it reeks, it fell.
Hourly lies through every screen —
End of this pathetic scene.

But your Soul is not for loss —
So rise up and bear your cross!
Only hear your inner flame —
All outside is filth and shame.




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



The Call of Poetry — a Fearsome Might.
If filth and comfort seem all right —
Then don’t you dare into those deeps:
The Path of Poetry is where Sorrow weeps.

Sorrow is ABSOLUTE — the rest is jest.
Stop bowing down to brute unrest.
Just DIE before you kneel to **** —
Just DON’T YOU LIE — Hell burns for some.




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



Stood by you? Not one...
What is it you seek?
Nothing. None. I'm done —
No more need to speak.

Nothing's left to crave —
I have walked through Hell.
Did that forge a knave?
No — I wrote it well.




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




I couldn’t care for this brave “horde” —
These fools who’d sell their souls for fraud,
Who treat betrayal as a sword,
And worship lies as some new god.

Go grab this “life” — go ****** your fate!
You’ll grasp a void. Your mind? — too late.
This path leads straight to what they crave:
A shiny car — to be their grave.




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



Angry Bear

That one? A “president” — a drunk, insane?
The Kremlin’s all just evil waste and stain.
If that’s the case — then we’re all doomed, no doubt...
The end is near, and there’s no way out.



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



“Unreasoning the Reasoned”

Un-reason those who thought they knew,
Break the spell of all this slime —
The nonsense born from lies anew,
Deceit of traitors, cruel crime.

A web of traps and staged deceit,
This world’s a scripted, staged charade.
The soul’s forever under heat,
While Satan’s half-god in the shade.

He writes the plot; the directors — ****,
Monsters hard to find or name.
The whole performance — deafening drum:
One trick — to scare, to lie, to maim.




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



“Love-Filled” Hypocrites

“Love abounds” — but fools surround,
And Darkness holds the world in chains.
Yet smiles so sweet, with grace profound,
Pour oil and tears to mask their stains.



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



The World’s Disappearance in Nightmare

"The waking share one common world,
The sleepers turn to their own fold."
— Heraclitus


The world dissolves — few stand awake,
While “sweet” dreams twist into a snare.
A nightmare traps the soul to break —
Its fallen fate, a fool’s despair.




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



Don’t Trust Your Eyes — The Pattern’s Blurred

Don’t trust your eyes — the mold has blurred
Your view of this dumb, dumb world absurd.
No courage, no sharp intuition —
Just march along to Stagnation’s prison.

A world of fools, a stagnant land,
Where spirit’s mocked by empty hands.
A fool’s small step can’t grasp the core,
No strength enough to seek for more.

Mind ruled by Spirit, life creates —
That’s how decay you’ll truly break.
Forget the stagnation’s curse,
And lies that spread their evil worse.

Assimilation’s reached its peak —
In fools, the chains they gladly seek.
Muzzles on through CowID years,
This world’s a joke — poor wretched peers.




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



“Evolution” of Fools

We don’t give **** — there’s plenty here,
Of sick fools clogged with empty cheer.
We’ll listen close if lies persist,
Relentless lies we can’t resist.

We’ll bow to lies, the box controls,
Feeding us junk, illusions’ roles.
Forever praise new petty tyrants,
In creatures rife with flaws, defiant.

We won’t perceive the chains we wear —
Our gaze on cash, the only care.
Gripped only by the lure of gold,
Buying babes and rides to hold.

No room for fools, they’re cast away —
New “selection” rules the play:
Fool turns cattle — that’s the way,
The age of dumb has its own sway.




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



So-called "Dictatorship of the Proletariat"?

Control and power by the masses —
Duller myth no one surpasses.
Dictatorship of lies insane,
Hidden plague, a filthy stain.

Like typhus, it infects the mind,
Lies disguised, the base you'll find.
Fools swoon fast on fairy tales,
While second depths command the hails.

Pol *** once was “communist.”
Before him ******’s iron fist.
Now the double-faced Putler’s here,
Teaching fools to bow and sneer.

A lesson steeped in lies supreme,
No one learns from past’s harsh scheme.
The freak disturbs the crowds anew,
With poisoned ideas — always through.




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



The Price of Freedom

The price of freedom — cast aside
All else with courage, cast and wide.
No coin in pocket? Let it be,
But time remains for Path and Deed.

The Path is knowledge, Deed — the fire,
A creative, fierce desire.
All else is folly, vain and cold,
A twisted goal by liars told.



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



Not Quite a Poem

Not quite a poem —
The rage won’t cease:
A fleeting flash,
A tense release —

And then — prepared.
A simple grind...
The “catch”?
Just “GRAB AND GRIND!!!”



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



“Yes” and “No”...

“Yes,” if madness rules the world,
And “normal” means the curse.
“No” will leave a weaker swirl —
If sane, you might disperse,

Walk down that wasted road —
Where sorrow’s sown today,
Hell reaps its fiery load.
Don’t curse the futile way:

If “benefit” feeds Hell’s fire,
The **** will cheer success.



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



In Hell’s Dark

“Sometimes the night’s too dark to see.”
— Stanisław Jerzy Lec


A blind mole crawls the tunnels deep,
Collecting tribute from the field.
In darkness, with fools just as steep,
You find the lies that Hell concealed.



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



Heights and Depths

“The higher we ascend, the small
And worthless seem to those who fall.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche’s thought to all.


To fly’s a snare in fools’ dull eyes:
If clear you think — the enemy’s guise.
The Artist’s mad amid the arts,
The Spirit’s Path — a yoke for hearts.




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



Self Inquiry

"Examine all, let reason lead,"
— Pythagoras spoke long ago indeed.


Explore it all, but under Spirit’s reign,
Let Reason hold the foremost claim.
To dig too deep in “knowledge” — foolish game,
For lies abound, and all is not the same.

The rulers know the art of lies,
So falsehoods spread, and truth soon dies.
They twist the sciences with cash and might,
Commanding falsehoods, veiling light.




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



The hamster and the mole both think,
The falcon lost, a sneaky link,
That life on Earth’s not all that bad,
While birds above just lie, so sad.




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




Spineless fools in clouds of madness,
Worldly nonsense, pale and stark —
This is monsters’ cruel gladness,
Brains and spirit fade to dark.

Few remain with backbone’s fire,
Fewer still with spirit’s core,
World won’t be what once inspired —
Soon it rots forevermore.




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



Synergy of Sufferers

"Shared misfortunes bear more patience than those endured alone."
— Niccolò Machiavelli


The sufferers grow in number,
When Evil's faced as one.
Till pain becomes all tender,
And ******* deeds are done.




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



Once so much, now so little —
Nonsense fades, a vanishing riddle.
What’s not nonsense, time will show,
Only years can let us know.

For us? Just few remain
“Fit for duty,” birds in pain —
Like the Red Book’s vanished kind,
Knowing pain, the thoughtful mind.

They know all’s just nonsense here:
Not humans now, but herds appear.
Among them few feel out of place,
Only minds that dare embrace.

To believe and still create
In this *******, cursed fate.
Rot grows like a tightening ball —
Soon this rotten madhouse falls.

Can’t endure this vile breath,
Better much to choose Death.




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



Tall tales gather all the likes —
Killing minds with twisted spikes.
New fascism steps in stride,
Breaking souls with fear inside.



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



Putler’s **** —
The reign of fake CowID’s done.
Now war rages — fools still buy
Every smoke-screen, every lie.

The source was called "The Butts,"
Long dead — yet the second batch trusts
Total lies once more, and swings
Wide the doors for fascist kings...




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




Karachun, old grump, to you won’t come —
Too many moons have passed, it's done.
Where is that spiteful little fiend?
Only boredom now is seen...



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



A minefield lies within the mind —
Deceitful charges placed all round.
The chances not to step — so slim,
The schematics tightly wound.

Only **** could dare to make
These traps that lie beneath the ground.
The herd grazes dumb and fake,
Among the grass, uncut, unbound.

The grass hides every single mine —
A “peaceful” pasture, so it seems.
Painted scenes with oil and line,
As if it’s not a war of dreams...




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



Comparison of Greco-Roman Wrestling and Marathon

Teens’ pillow fight — just warm-up, a test,
Before the marathon’s true quest.
I’ve faced them both — it’s not a lark,
To run that race is hell and dark!



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



Cogs and Mechanism

A tiny ***** is tightly turned—
You’ll never loosen what’s well burned:
It feels no pain, no woe, no loss—
The mechanism wins, the boss.



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



Mountain Practice
(an ironic verse)

From burrow up the hill you crawl,
Seek truth and light beyond the wall.
Tremble only before the bright—
The hamster’s lost, no sign of sight.

That burrow’s home to that small beast,
Whose lies and madness never ceased.
Beaten down by endless lies,
A swamp of falsehoods, dark disguise.




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



The Privileged

The privileged — what a joke:
They boast, but what’s their claim?
Their wealth, their endless bloat —
Few have a worthy aim.

Daddy’s sons are mostly ****,
As usual, every time.
In this world, the subtle hum
Is trapped in endless grime.

The brazen always climb
Right up to highest place.
The privileged only dream,
A hollow rotten case.

There’s always exceptions, sure,
But these aren’t what I write.
When rot is all you endure,
The top’s to blame outright.



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




Step by Step. To the Reichstag
Or will you fall into the abyss?
Arm yourself with fearless grit:
If not the pit — you’re sure to miss!

To live small-world is suicide.
To die — and rise again, there’s chance.
Forget all speeches, pomp, and pride —
In Bedlam, only Honor stands!

Death will rank us all in lines.
Reverse the order, watch it clear:
Those who swim in lies and fat —
Are last, far off, in utter fear.

A stranger shows up in the distance,
With a name that cuts like steel:
“F#ckup” — world-wide consequence.
This small world’s doom is real.




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



Super Sport

Bullshitters rule the football game,
Less cash, less players, fans the same.
Shots of lies suppress the fools —
In this sport, propaganda rules.

Top league filled with perfect liars,
Politicians—first-class buyers.
Not a gang, but highest tier,
Goals scored well, the crowd will cheer.

The rigged machine runs like a clock,
Now more than ever, it’s a shock:
Everywhere dull fascists rise —
This sport’s just lies behind the guise.




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



Mass-Produced Prison

Mass-market prison, trap of waste—
Consumers stuck in **** misplaced.
Can’t pull them off, no quick escape,
Only root them out, reshape.




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



The Angry Bear and the Russian Asylum

The Angry Bear left marks behind —
Shameful traces, raw, unkind.
Spewed such wild, insane disgrace,
That the whole Asylum stared in face.




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



Partly Not Partly...

Partly it’s a blessing,
That it’s not all a blessing—
Partly… Not a curse, confessing—
This world’s a Hell’s own dressing.

Will it choke or will it swallow?
Choke it will, not partly, hollow—
Whole and full, then it will follow,
A new world born, new joys to wallow.




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



Solar Apocalypse

"Children of the underground" —
The future’s dark for those who’ve found
A chance to save their fading breath.
That “captain” just spins nonsense,
Spewing cow farts, dense pretense,
Everywhere the CEO’s death.

These tales are old, the lies abound,
Your head will swell, the dumb surround.
This widespread plague of empty minds
Leaves all in shock, it binds and blinds.

And CowID’s the first test—
For those who to the cities rest—
Below, like tags on herds confined,
Masks lock them all, enslaved, aligned.




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



"Enjoy!" — a common phrase before a meal...

Even cats without affection
Won't embrace their food’s connection.
A restaurant, like fairy tales,
For two-legged beasts with tails.

Who’s the animal? Think twice,
Scrape off pride and all the vice:
Nonsense, lies like swirling smoke—
This is what the truth provokes.

The final verdict’s clear and crude,
But we won’t name it — rude,
“Man like god”? A cursed fraud —
The Horned God, foul and flawed.




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



Drowning in Lies

They push —
We sink.
They push Lies —
Sick of all these stinking kinks...




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



The Suckers

Lies? Well, then turn on patience...
And multiply your tolerance?
If ******* wins the fight,
You’re lost — no chance in sight.




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



Sellouts

Why do you cling to those corrupt freaks —
Honor, dignity? Like, who needs that, geeks?
Scary as hell — these sellout clowns, no tricks.
They tear apart what’s fragile, thin as sticks!

Thin the *******, thin the minds, so weak —
Primitive fools, but still, try books you seek.
“All subtle” — in the ****’s stale, crooked schemes,
But dissonance still rings loud through their dreams.




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



They ****** Us All

They ****** us ALL —
That’s how this world is.
Keep grinding, “Emelya,” —
Wretched, poor, and helpless.

Chew your grub,
You VILE beast —
You’ll find a noose,
A flea sold out, at least!..




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



Truth and Fiends

How many fiends? —
Too **** many!
Roasting lies? —
No place to carry.

Enough to wait
For that tight space —
Time to ****
Those beasts with grace!

Not by force,
But all the same —
Few chances left
To become the same.

Just Truth,
Harsh and raw!
A burden, yes —
That’s what it’s for.

Weigh your strength—what still remains,
Face the fight, but use your brains.
Fools charge blindly, fall like flies—
Wisdom wins, or no one survives.

"Each morning we open our eyes, like a merchant unlocks his store,
To display ourselves for deception, and cheat our neighbor once more;
Then at night we close them again, having spent the whole day in deceit."
— Jean de La Bruyère, 17th century.


The antique shops have faded,
Supermarkets stand instead.
Lies have long intoxicated—
Drowned in falsehood, mind is dead.

Few today resist submission,
Seen as fools, despised, alone.
For the masses—truth’s omission,
Madness rules their world of stone.

Who’s the madman? Any neighbor—
For deceit is now the way.
Truth’s dismissed as myth and vapor,
Dragged to nothing—Lucifer’s play.

Horns unseen yet reign so boldly,
Hidden specters pull the chain.
Fools are mass-produced and sold—see,
Ignorance is now in gain.



In Russian:

Лавки и супермакеты лжи Люциферианской Системы

"Каждое утро мы раскрываем глаза, как купец ставни своей лавки, и выставляем себя напоказ, чтобы обманывать ближнего; а вечером снова закрываем их, потратив целый день на обман".
Жан де Лабрюйер, XVII-ый век.


Лавки древностей закрыты —
Супермаркеты кругом:
Ложь тотальная — прибиты
Ею, и своим умом

Днесь живут лишь единицы.
Дурнями считают их,
Так как оным чушь не мнится.
В чуши утопает псих.

Псих реальный — гражданина,
Но считают нормой то;
Диким мифом — Господина,
Что стремит весь мир в НИЧТО.

Господин рогатый? Точно —
Эта мерзость спектра вне
Визуального. Поточно
Оглупленье — чмо в цене...

A world in flames:
A rigged-out game.
Flush foolish mind —
Stay dumb, stay blind.



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



"Forebears," school, a useless class,
Work and wedlock—what a farce!
Grind them down, and soon you’ve got a
Mindless drone—his job is "slogging."

Drones are many, rule is tight,
Beasts will feast in endless night,
Till the fools break free at last—
If they ever wake up fast.



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



"Legit" aspirations—
Just fools in their stations:
When beasts strike you down,
A madman is found.

They strike with deception,
With fear and oppression,
And that's how it goes—
War endlessly flows.

Are goals truly right,
If cowards in fright
Endure every shove
And beg: "Push above!"

Don’t live just to breed,
To munch and to knead—
A foul, rotting slum
That pleases the ****.



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



Obey the brutes, the twisted fools,
The vile, the mad who break the rules—
You'll keep your wretched life, but see:
A slave to beasts is all you'll be.



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



Sleep—don’t see the wicked play,
Lest the fools be hurt one day.
See and shout? You cross the line.
Sleep—you're tolerant. How fine!



--- Total 5 poems. ---

The Dull Lyre

A bloated bug,
A filthy creeper,
The world’s a rug—
It digs in deeper.

The Lyre hums:
"Love, joy, devotion!"
The shame just numbs—
That’s all its potion.

The parasite
Would keep you sleeping:
"Seize the delight!"—
This world is weeping.



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



False Faiths with a Stench of Satanism

A savage mask, a hollow fraud—
It’s Satan playing human god.
They wrote their myths, they spun their tales—
Now blind submission sets the sails.

Look Within—the truth is there,
Not in fables bred from air,
Not in scripts of twisted lies,
Where the soul is crushed and dies.

No fattened priest, no preacher’s game,
No sects that shackle you in shame—
Their nonsense bows the weak and frail,
A golden chain, a velvet jail.

These are fables meant for slaves,
A net where mindless fish behave.
Millions lost in blind submission,
Throwing gates to dark perdition.



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



Grasshopper Stew

Masha gets porridge,
Vasya—a tank.
No way to dodge it,
Cyberpunk.



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



The Limits of "Knowledge"

Blind to "knowledge," lost in dust,
The mind decays, consumed by rust.
The Heart knows more—so vast, so grand,
It stuns the fool who'd scoff and stand.



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



The Burden of the ******

A sack of lies, regrets, and blunders,
Of dreams that drift to dark, astray—
Doomed souls march on, torn full asunder,
And drag it down to Hell’s doorway.

The load grows worse, the road turns colder,
While fiends divide and lock the mind:
"Survive—just that!"—they scream and solder
The chains that keep the herd confined.

The end result?—Judas and fools,
Who'd sell their souls and never care
For Light or Truth, for heart-born rules,
For Honor lost in poisoned air.

And so the tale of Evil closes,
Its milestones counted to the gate—
Where every dream of virtue dozes,
And rot is all that’s left of fate.



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



The Loss of Illusions

"Is losing illusions a profit or loss?"
— Stanisław Jerzy Lec

A loss—if you dream of success in the madhouse,
For fools hate the one who can see through the lies.
Here, fame and the filth are the keys to their triumph,
While chains forged of falsehood still dazzle blind eyes.

No profit—just space that is cleared for the seeker,
Who walks toward the Light through a path rough and steep.
Escaping the filth of this world grows much simpler
When roads aren’t so narrow, so twisted, so deep.

For all takes place in the space of the mind—
Illusions must die for the journey to start.
Few ever find what they're hoping to find,
But seeking itself is the god of the heart.



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



The "Rational" Mankind

A withered branch
Of a sane creation.
Whips of Evil
Know no cessation.



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



The Fascist Core of Every Regime

To twist the mind—their master play,
A fascist trick that rules the day.
No other filth is ever found—
The mob's "bright mind" runs false, unsound.

Add to that schools that breed decay,
And through the years, it stays that way.
The fool, once dulled, will rise and lead—
For in this world, the fools exceed.



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



Fools and ****

Fools and ****—don’t be deceived,
Satan’s hands have them retrieved.
Bought for trinkets, sold for vice,
Dragged down deep without a price.
To the bottom, fool—think fast!
He will own you till the last.



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



The Writer’s Toil

This work’s like mining frozen stone,
A lonely, endless, harsh ordeal.
You need it—yours and yours alone,
Let others lie and call it real.



--- Total 10 poems. ---

“What?” and “where?” and “when?”—who cares?
Ask instead the “how?” that dares.
Fraud and trivia, bought and sold,
Strengthen chaos, dullness, mold.

First three serve just skill and lore,
But the fourth breaks through the door—
Leaps to realms unknown, untried.
“How?”—dare even cliffs abide!

Year by year, the frames grow tight;
The World Camp looms—a choking blight.
But with “how?” you live, not drift.
Not “like all”—a conscious shift.


In Russian:

Три тупых вопроса и четвёртый умный

"Что?" и "где?", "когда?" — не важно:
Творческим вопросом "как?".
Ерундиция, продажность
Крепят тупость и бардак.

Первых три — лишь "гибкость", память,
А чётвёртый есть прорыв
В неизвестное. Вне рамок
Быть здесь как? Хотя б в обрыв! —

Рамки с каждым годом жёстче:
Мировой Концлагерь ждёт.
Если "как?", живёшь не проще:
Не "как все" — не идиот!..

"Upbringing" of the Rising Generation

No clubs for thought, no place for reason,
But sports? They're funded well enough.
No risks allowed—such talk’s high treason,
Can’t shake the herd, they’ve had it rough.

Debates could spark a mind’s ignition,
Awake a few, shake up the scene,
But thinking’s met with firm suspicion—
Who needs the wise when fools convene?

It’s all about the body, solely,
No link to thought, no mental light.
The media feeds the masses lowly—
Rot, filth, and trash—day, noon, and night.

To keep the madness ever thriving,
Control demands a mindless herd.
If truth were free and not conniving,
Then fools would vanish—leave no word.

Yet, some emerge—rare, strong, insightful,
Against the tide, they rise and gleam,
But fools ***** out what’s bright, delightful—
Like birds from books—they’re just a dream.



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



The History of Earth Is the History of Slavery

They’ve painted over slavery’s tale,
Drowned truth in myths—a grand parade.
And now the fools, devout and pale,
Don’t see how deep we’ve all decayed.



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



Inverse Proportion of False Life’s Rewards

You’ll get what’s earned—but in reverse,
No lucky break will lift you high.
If fate must choose, it picks the worst,
Unless you serve—then step in line.

Misfortune clings to those who wait,
Hard work won't change its wicked touch.
So work, but not for fortune’s bait—
Create instead, it gives you much.

True merit shines through fire and strife,
Not wealth, not gold, nor aching greed.
For chasing cash with all your life
Is just the way a slave proceeds.



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



Oblivion

"Man, you have nothing but your soul."
— Pythagoras, 6th century BC


Fame and fortune, body, mind—
All will fade, but not the soul.
Seek the truth, reclaim control,
Leave the fleeting noise behind.

Words like echoes cloud the way,
Trapping hearts in endless night.
Break the chains, embrace the light—
Let your soul no more decay!



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



Greed

"More! Still more!"—the cry is loud,
And the soul burns out in flames.
Greed has dragged the masses down,
Chasing gold and hollow names.



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



The Global Masquerade

A masquerade—just look around!
Few are real, most wear disguise.
The wretched hide, they can’t be found,
For deep inside—they’re empty lies.

And emptiness creates no fate,
Builds no world, no dream, no light.
It only takes, consumes with hate,
And hoards for self with all its might.

Why should others even try,
If fiends will tear down what they make?
All that’s left is smoke and sky—
They take, take, take for their own sake.



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



A Game with Poison

What a game—lace your verse with fire,
Strike at fascists, let words ignite.
Let the brutes claim they’re always right,
But don’t you dare give up the fight.

For dropping your hands is sinking your soul,
Drowning it deep in the darkness below.
Listen to heart—let it guide you whole,
And **** what the slaves may think or know.



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



Fragmented Mind

Scenes that jump and flash, collide—
Minds dissolve in shattered streams.
Memes ensure the lie won’t die,
Locking thoughts in caged-up dreams.

Trapped within this broken vision,
Sinking deeper, thought grows thin.
Is it fun or just derision—
News, blogs, films—they pull you in.



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



True Opposites Don’t Attract

In foolish tales, they twist and spin—
Opposites will magnetize.
But kindred souls will draw within—
That’s life's true law, not hollow lies.



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



Golden Domes and Endless Chimes

Golden domes, a ringing chime,
Drifting, droning, loud yet bare…
Time unchrist yourself - it's crime:
Faith will drive out reason there.



--- Total 10 poems. ---

Nonsense, fear—the dust of time,
Prayers won’t save you, not divine,
If you bow and drift along,
Letting rot consume the throng.

Crossroads

Straight ahead— a pit of sorrow,
Lies pile high above its rim.
Leftward— sheep led to the slaughter,
War revives at Führer’s whim.

To the right— the path of fading,
Yet the haze won’t linger long.
When decay and lies pervade you,
Choices left are weak and wrong.

But a spark of true creation
Lifts you past these roads of sin.
Step by step, it breaks damnation,
Wipes away the Goat’s dark grin.

Cursed this world— the Goat Supreme
Strangles all creative fire.
Yet the strongest won’t be beaten,
Won’t bow down to his desire.

Few resist— the crossroads call
Most to darkness, filth, and shame.
Breeding beasts, they flood the halls
Of a world consumed by flame.



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



The Music Played

The music played,
The flattery flowed.
But she just swayed—
You're a zero, she showed.

No cash, no car?
Then you're out of the game.
That’s how things are—
Most folks think the same.



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



In the Dark of Black Marks

Black marks flashing,
Seen without asking.
Luxury, status—
Hiding the madness.

Vile ones scheming,
Binding and weaving.
Countless, they smother
This wretched world over.

Black marks cover,
Lies make it suffer.
Few walk lightly,
Pure souls brightly.

White marks glowing—
Truth ever showing.
Honor must guide them,
So we can find them.



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



Twisted faces, filled with rage—
Mad slaves seething in their cage.
When their "truths" begin to fall,
Then the "leaders" lose it all.



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



Changes

Fools and tools,
Played by rules.
Masks are gone—
Helmets on.



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



Childish...

Buzzing Fly
Darted by,
Landed in your ear—
Whispers lies you fear.

That’s the trick of spin—
Trust the beasts, you’re in.



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



Satanism of False Faiths

Swing the censer, chant and pray—
Fools won’t see the Devil’s way.
"Eat His flesh"— the rite goes on,
Bless the chains and call it dawn.

"God’s own slaves" in every land,
While the liars rule, expand.
Temples rise at their command,
Praising shackles, tight and grand.



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



"God’s" Slave

Weakened, broken, rich yet lame,
Still a servant, just the same.
Off to church—bow down once more,
Fill your mind with hollow lore.



--- Total 8 poems. ---

Subject, object — nonsense, gloom.
We’re ruled by fears and lies,
Boundless is the Spiritual Realm.
If your mind’s not left behind,

Then yield it to the Spirit’s sway,
For Spirit’s triumph will display
How the wretched world dissolves—
Like rotten cheese in a trap’s jaws.


In Russian:

Растворение мира

Subject, object — чушь и мрак.
Мы под властью страхов, врак.
Без границ Духовный Мир.
Если разум твой не сир,

Подчини тогда его
Духу. Духа торжество
Растворит убогий мир —
В мышеловке тухлый сыр.

Detachment and the End of the World

Don’t bind yourself, not even
To the stray cats you meet,
For the only bond left is treason,
And that battle’s never sweet.

It’s a war that spans the ages,
But those times are long past.
The End will come, we’ll meet it soon,
All else is nonsense or farce at last.



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



The Devouring Machine

A ravenous machine —
This world, so vile and lean.
Fascism's grip, relentless, stays,
Reborn again in hollow phrases' sway.



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



Aging Children and Adult Games

Playing grown-up isn’t hard—
Just age a bit, and you’ve gone far.
But many grown-ups lie so bold,
A third of them are simply old.



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



Cruel Truth

Cruel Truth sat down by my side,
And whispered a tale that chilled me inside.
To wrap it in verse? A tormenting feat—
But turning away would be soul’s defeat.

Filthy old Lies, through the media stream,
Spew rancid nonsense, a reeking dream.
The vermin bow to the stench with pride—
If that’s the line, I’ll stand outside.

Let the poem be silent—still, wars are waged
With words on the page, not bombs enraged.
You write, you breathe—then rise again,
Though only a few may grasp your pen.

Cold Truth will judge and set the line:
Each to the fate they’ve earned in time.
The liars queue up for another disguise,
The honest are tossed where the grave-wind sighs.



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



What’s Worse Than Tuberculosis?

There is a plague that strikes much worse
Than coughing blood and death’s old curse—
It’s Moronosis, deadly still,
A corpse alive, with lying will.

It’s not contagious through the air,
Yet poisons minds beyond repair.
And kids — the purest, sharpest minds —
Are first to fall to twisted lines.

The fools arrive with books and lies,
Like poisoned treats in sweet disguise.
Believe them once — your mind decays,
You swing your doors to beasts and plague.

Then you’re a slave of Beastly Brood,
Spreading the madness, crude and rude.
This Moronosis grows and feeds—
It’s not a scare. It’s real. It bleeds.

But if you fear it — do not freeze.
Protect the others. Spread disease?
No — shield the minds while there is time.
Don’t heal the fools. Burn back the slime.



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



The Science of All Sciences

To gauge the sheep’s reaction rate—
That’s science. Not your standard kind.
It fuels the fascist-minded state,
With streamlined tools to cage the mind.

To boost results and slash the strain,
Just axe the "useless" works you fund—
Then pour the cash like toxic rain
Where mind control is finely spun.

Thus rise the “vectors of desire”
To herd the flock in planned stampede—
Some to the altar, some to fire,
Some—sick for show, to serve the need.

The core of this "great science" reigns
In fear—its lies are strong and cheap.
Why stage an op when well-told chains
Can wage a war you never speak?

Declare that war upon the sheep?
Oh no, that takes a shred of pride.
Much cleaner: cull them while they sleep.
This genocide just bides its time.



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



From Rant to Rant

The kings of hype, the TikTok troops,
The pop-star squeaks, the YouTube giants—
Serve lukewarm slop in plastic soups,
But where's the place for true defiance?

No place for talent — none at all.
It’s always lost beneath the stream
Of dreary sludge that crowds the stall,
While trash gets pushed by every scheme.

All effort dies outside the trend,
If it won’t bend to what they sell.
You’re just a squirrel that can’t transcend
The spinning wheel — from rant to hell.



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



Surrealist "Climb"

A liar and a fool, tight-bound,
Begin their “climb” with steps unsound.
Alone they’d never scale a thing—
But tied, the liar leads the string.

The fool’s the mule — he hauls the pack,
While lies flood every twisted track.
And where the trench runs deep with grime,
They call that pit the peak they climb.

The fool, in awe, believes he’s blessed.
But truth’s not welcome on this quest.
Only sur-realism thrives—
Where logs roll uphill, dead and blind.



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



Deliriums and Sarcasms

You miss the old delirium? Why?
The new one's here — go kiss it "hi"!
No room for sarcasm in these lines—
Unless you're dumb, you'll spot the signs.

This isn’t irony — it’s fact:
Sarcasm nods to madness past.
But now, fake plagues attack intact
While lunacy gains strength so fast.

Collective madness rules the screen—
Write what you will, say what you mean.
Your mind gets ****** off, left and right,
While evil turns into your rite.

“Get used to filth!” — the global creed,
Where brain-dead mobs outnumber need.
If you decay among the freaks,
Where mutant swine parade in streaks—

Then do your worst, unleash your flame—
You’ll never beat the Madness Game.
And stupidity’s the primal sin.
Now tell me: sarcasm? Where to begin?!





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



False Religions

"There’s little love in this world as is—
why waste it on imaginary beings?"
—Friedrich Nietzsche


Let’s paint a “god” — divine decoy,
A lightning rod for grief and shame.
The crowd, in love with holy toys,
Finds comfort worshiping the lame.

Let’s channel all our “higher drives”
Toward that ghost in skies above—
While those around us scrape to survive,
We’re just too “busy” spreading love.

We build our churches, feed the lies,
Dress up fools in holy gowns.
And all our “love” we sacrifice
To filth and cults where blood goes down—

Drink the blood, eat sacred meat,
Rituals drenched in dark pretense.
Distraction’s art is near-complete,
The inhuman writes my common sense.

It had made our minds slavery,
Hides the chains behind the rite.
For raw brute force can’t always be
Enough to prop a tyrant’s might.

So draw your gods and preach your spell—
That’s how the BEAST expands its bluff.
They’ve layered centuries of hell
With sweet, seductive, sacred stuff.





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



The Path Beyond

The Beyond is not some pastel dream—
It’s rupture, chasm, sharp extreme.
No jelly soul will make it through—
It bursts with rot that Evil grew.

That mushy fool, so soft, so sweet,
Is perfect clay for Evil’s feat.
The path beyond begins in loss,
And not for donkeys to emboss.

There’s no way in without the strain—
The road is built from searing pain.
The first step: rot laid bare and clear.
The next: move onward. Far from here.



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



TV Series

TV series: time’s not lost—
It simply reversed at cost.
Joy runs dry, but still you sit,
Watch again… and call it wit.

You grow numb — the soul erodes,
Feeding on those dreamland codes.
Timeless art feels raw and sore,
Like a wound you just ignore.

It’s a childhood reinstalled—
For old fools, grown-up, dumb, enthralled.
They forget they’re just a tool
For the BEAST’s amusement school.

Waiting gifts from such a source,
They forget the Beast, of course.
TV series — monkey cage,
Plague of Evil, rot in stage.



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



The Irreversible Descent

Like in a nightmare, deeper down—
Not just in fools, nor tyrant clowns.
It’s not just lies that rot the land,
Nor poverty with outstretched hand.

A greater plague begins to rise:
Soullessness behind the eyes.
No cure exists, no hope to mend—
And thought grows useless in the end.

The herd obeys without a fight,
As CowID proved in plainest light.
The further on, the worse it gets—
The sleeping mind absorbs the threats.





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



Straightening Their Backs, Rising Up...

They straightened their backs —
Struck down by the idea!
And from their knees, the hacks
Rose up—wild propaganda’s fear.

The BEAST’s loud cry will lead the way,
To the Crematory, where they’ll pay.
They’ll roast the fools, the broken breed—
The pitiful herd, consumed in greed...



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



Changes in the Pastures

Baa-baa, moo-moo,
In the grass so true.
Hear this, my friend—
The herd’s loose end.

It’s getting rough—
Not enough beef stuff.
The slaughterhouse line
Doubles its grind.



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



Machine Censorship and Ranking

TikTok’s sprout,
The grass — a flood of lies.
A verse runs out,
Censorship decides.



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



Double of a Double?!
A matryoshka of madness!
Oh, how deep’s the pit,
Where lies breed with sharpness.

It’s all run dry—
The oars are withered,
In rotting deceit,
Only insanity is delivered.



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



The Grand Universal Madness

Sarcasm won’t help in this delirium,
The BEAST’s strength leads to its own end—
A ******-up, fiery, twisted show,
The end is near, as chaos grows.



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



Cop Shows

Cop shows, though filmed by the score,
Convince only fools — nothing more.
This abyss, so deep, it’s clear—
Only the dumb dare draw near.

The cop, not the sellout of old,
Now brave in movies, bold.
Fascism crushed the land we knew,
And sent it all spiraling through.



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



No Choice in Total Slavery

"Music of Spheres"
Or Lucifer's gears?
No choice, you see.
"Choice" is just insanity.

To drown in chains,
To live in pain—
To live or rot?
To be or not?



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



Limitless Stupidity and Greed

Deceiving now’s a simple feat:
Greed and folly—limitless deceit.
The BEASTs lie on without a care,
And the wise? They’re left despair.



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



The Little Mind

A splinter of threat
Lodges in the mind.
A splinter plus dreams—
Is it thought or shame we find?



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



The Grasping Mechanism of the Mind as a Replacement for Thought

The grasping instinct, flight from strife,
A reflex to escape from life,
Forgetting you’re just a tool
For others’ greed, their lusts to rule.

To trap you in their filthy pen,
Through fear and lies, they reign again.
They deserve this, these grasping fools—
A law of likeness: dust to dust, no rules.



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



The Ignorant’s Hopes

The ignorant’s hopes,
Like hooks of old,
Are what the BEASTs use
To trap in their hold.

Conditions are strong,
Hopes are absurd—
What can there be in slavery?
Deceptions in torment—deferred.

Hope deceives,
For in lies the fool believes.
This lie is total—
The earth infernal.



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



Trash-Culture by the Ton

A culture built of shredded lies —
Just scraps are worth a second glance.
Soviet lit? In whole — it dies.
Pure rot in patriotic trance.



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



The Hard Work of TRUE Solitude

Alone. Yet pounding at the door —
The crowd returns as ghosts of lies:
Old creeds you swallowed since before,
And sweet delusions in disguise.

They haunt you just to blur the Depth,
To shield your mind from seeing clear.
But till you throw out all that theft,
You're not alone — just bathed in smear.



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



Culinary Arts

"Even dreams can be turned into jam — if you add fruit and sugar."
— Stanisław Jerzy Lec


A mighty kitchen, pots of lies,
Dreams baked as fragile, brittle pies.
They top the crust with steaming fiction,
Then glaze it sweet — a pure conviction

Of “faith” and “hope,” naïve and blind.
The crust gives in — not hard to find:
The fools aren’t stingy with the mess —
They’ll bring more lies with due finesse.



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



Children’s Drama Club

The stars on stage? It’s mom and dad —
Loud-mouthed tantrums, twisted, sad.
Shame and spite in every shout —
That’s what “drama” is about.

Little minds, still soft and bending,
Face this “show” that's never ending.
Worse than books that rot the brain —
It’s poison served as heartfelt pain.

The soul gets warped by ****** scenes,
Where “chasing dreams” means vile routines.
And in this play, if you don’t break,
You’ll play a **** for grown-up’s sake —

Just useful trash in madhouse grind,
To slave for peanuts, dumb and blind.



--- Total 28 poems. ---

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.