At Full Speed...
A machine of sweat and grinding,
A diseased and toxic sphere,
Where the blind and mute are writhing,
Only ******* rule in here.
Not real lords—just slaves in hiding,
Licking boots to keep their place.
Hellish cogs—no guiding, no deciding,
Fools serve blindly in disgrace.
Like mere cattle, men are kneeling,
Hoping "lords" will bring them light,
While the dream of change is fleeting,
Crushed beneath the wheels of might.
Few escape—their ranks diminish,
Fewer left to stand and fight,
As new waves of fools replenish,
Breeding madness day and night.
Freaks, dimwits, psychotic wreckage—
Forms of ruin, doomed and vexed.
Not for long, though—crash and wreckage,
Armageddon’s racing next.
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Hear and Believe...
Hear it—trust it. Blind devotion.
Thinking hurts—so why insist?
Open doors without a notion
For the brazen egotist.
He will set the facts in order,
Twist the truth to fit his line.
And if scholars serve as warders,
Fools will bow—“They must be right!”
Like a gambler, slyly dealing,
He reshapes what once was real.
Dark magician, false revealing,
Masters lies with polished skill.
Screens will show the grand illusion,
Staged to dazzle, stir, ignite,
Hiding hell in bright profusion,
Flags ablaze in crimson light.
Crowds of puppets, dumb and fervent,
March to battle or to toil.
Empty labor, pointless purpose—
But as long as there's some spoil,
Idiots will lap the poison,
Sing their hymns and stand in line.
Thought is dead—once minds are frozen,
Rulers strengthen by design.
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Slave Mentality
Judge no evil, just forgive it,
Call your shackles "life" instead.
Teach your children how to live it—
Turn their souls to slime and dread.
Centuries of tyrant ruling,
Rot and filth—no shame to see.
Blind submission, crude and drooling,
That’s a slave’s philosophy.
Sacred laws will ban derision,
Preach submission, hush the doubt.
Judas reigns—it’s called “decision,”
“Fate” is how they spell it out.
“God’s own slave”... but scriptures reek of
Satan’s mark in every thread.
That is why, with fascists’ bleak love,
Priests stand smiling, cloaked in red.
Man’s no more than Hell’s dumb minion,
Servant to the cloven beast.
Heaven’s gate—no grand dominion,
Just a test of pain increased.
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Against Nature...
But nature’s laws are strong and ruthless,
No “human rules” can stand their test.
Yet mankind fights—a war so fruitless,
And soon the flames will do the rest.
The sun burns hotter, magma rumbles,
Cracks are spreading through the crust.
But “kings” still hide in dreams that crumble,
Hoping holes will shield their dust.
They’ve built their burrows deep and sprawling,
Whole cities lurk beneath the land.
But conscience lost to greed enthralling
Won’t grant them safety as they planned.
No vault will save them—no exemption,
For all will face the final call.
And nature’s wrath grants no redemption—
You cannot turn the world to thrall.
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The Price of Truth
The price of truth is steep and grim—
Your very life’s the cost to pay.
As children, blinded, we grow dim,
Trapped in the slime of foul decay.
It wraps us tight—no space to run,
And home’s no haven from the lies.
The world, in sum, is mad, undone—
A madhouse ruled by wicked ties.
Yet if you stand, refuse to kneel,
And guard the truth with all you’ve got,
You’ll find its presence, strong and real—
An oasis in a wasteland hot.
An oasis—meaning starved and weak,
Alone, yet pushing through the strain.
While scorching winds from all sides shriek—
The stench of lies, corrupt and plain.
Slime and storm—this verse may weave
In metaphors both sharp and wild.
But should you fall, submit, and leave,
The truth will call another child.
--- Total 5 poems. ---