Liquefied Delusions
Just recently, I caught some chatter —
More nonsense for my growing pile.
Inheritor of minds that shatter,
A humble lunatic in style.
Here lies and drivel fill the weather,
But I’m no bird — I am a shell.
Too late to dream of soaring feathers,
Yet in decay, I’m doing well.
Delusions melt into a river —
An ocean rising, thick and wide.
A copper lid will soon deliver
The death of eagles in their pride.
But shells are made for such a broth —
I’ll add more madness to my trove.
Though reason drowned in lies and froth,
Its market price is far too low.
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Emptiness, Estrangement
Estrangement, loss — a sacred token:
The soul departs decay and dust.
Its ties to rot and ruin broken,
It seeks — perhaps — a path more just.
It won’t abide in dread or madness,
But hunts for Light through darkest haze.
Few find it — yet defying sadness
Means more than basking in its blaze.
For searching is the soul’s true nature,
More vital than the light it seeks.
If stilled, content in falseful stature —
It sinks in phantoms, lost and weak.
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The Inevitability of Failure
(After a quote by Mark Twain)
“It's hard to believe one lives a life
Without, at heart, declaring it a loss.”
He knew the world: its noise, its strife —
A stacked-up game where fools are boss.
We drown in fear, in lies we're raised,
This vile little world’s the stage.
A pyramid of dullness, praised,
That cages thought and stirs up rage.
This madness — vast, industrial-sized —
Will wear down even strongest hearts.
Alone we drift, dehumanized,
As evil pulls the world apart.
And soon comes end — a grim parade —
Where all attempts to shift the tide
Are just more failures, retrograde,
Especially if hope’s applied.
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A fool-built world on lies and fear —
No soul breaks through, no truth draws near.
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The Priests
They sell you "Heaven" like the Cup —
Finals of some holy game.
Buy tickets high, then mark them up —
And sell your soul to chase the same.
But lies have cost — Hell takes its due.
And if you sell yourself for gain,
You serve the Devil — dressed in black,
Where blind submission keeps you chained.
No room for Spirit. Mind? Forbidden.
Their sacred texts are slave-made fiction.
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War on Reason and Humanity
Unchained, unhinged — that’s how to live,
Or choke beneath the weight of lies.
The rot is thick, and they won’t give —
It’s falsehood used as battle cries.
Corruption floods from every screen —
A weapon in the Creature’s grip.
The filth is vast, the stench obscene,
It chokes the soul, it makes minds slip.
Only the fierce, the wild, the clear
Can cast this madness off and see.
But docile sheep will cling to fear —
And die in blind captivity.
Their goal? To **** what makes us true —
All humanness erased by lies.
This war’s not waged with swords — but through
The soul’s slow ****** in disguise.
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They wage a war through poisoned screens —
To burn the soul, destroy what means.
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1.
Obey or rot — that’s their demand.
Truth dies beneath a liar’s brand.
2.
They flood the world with toxic lies —
To crush all thought and cauterize.
3.
The soul’s on fire — they call it peace.
But truth begins where chains release.
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The Storm Within
A storm within is not despair —
It means you’ve cracked the leash.
You feel the lies stripped layer by layer
From off your soul and flesh.
They train us young to trust the fake,
To swallow lies as fate —
It’s how they teach the mind to break,
And keep you in their state.
Like spinning spokes, the fear and lies
Flash in the hamster cage.
And truth? It flickers, barely tries...
Just dust and dread — this stage.
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1.
The storm inside is not defeat —
It means you're breaking from deceit.
2.
They spin the wheel with fear and lies —
Obey, go numb — or start to rise.
3.
A soul that storms is not yet dead —
But one that sleeps is led — and bled.
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Agony of the Luciferian System
The System’s last and final fight
Is with the remnants called “the People.”
Blind sheep, mute, shackled tight,
Under demons’ iron steeple.
The fragments cannot join or stand —
So everything will be erased.
No clear mind can understand
The truth when lies have been embraced.
It draws its own conclusions blind,
Cut off the cords of cruel deceit —
That keep the herd locked, chained, confined,
Controlled by fear, and lies repeat.
The System’s agony displayed,
By CowID’s harsh, revealing light:
Falsehoods, fears, memes dismayed —
A pitiful, disgraceful blight.
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Umka loves to crunch her fish.
To fools, lies taste like honey sweet:
Satan will cradle all with tricks —
Wild lies will drag you to defeat!
CowID showed the battle’s core —
Deception strong, a brutal force.
Only **** obey the lore,
Fools get banished, lost their course.
Analysis? Long dead and gone.
Critical thought’s beneath the floor.
Hysteria reigns, emotions spawn —
The rabble’s lost its chance for more.
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Apocalypse
The tyrants reign, the madness spreads,
A world consumed by endless fear.
They strike where fragile spirit threads —
The soul is thin, the dust is near.
The rotten world is sharp and coarse,
Its grains cut deep, the truth is clear.
It’s time to end this cruel farce —
The answer to the dark is near.
We’ll live within the Subtle Plane —
Where souls find grace, their true estate.
But liars, ****, in Hades’ reign —
Shall lie to devils, sealed their fate.
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Shaitans act like masters,
In this pitiful small world.
They strike the Heart with cruel blasters,
Through lies, fools are swiftly hurled.
The fool becomes their weapon,
And fools form their cruel horde.
Their fictions, lies — the deadly lesson:
A call to ****, their word.
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An Alternative to September First
A holiday for Thought’s own skill,
On some September day:
If falsehoods fill your mind to spill,
Then all “learning” fades away.
Memory overloaded with trash
Kills living thought inside,
And twists the soul in foolish rash —
You join the fools’ dull tide.
To Evil dullness, school’s a base,
Its roots sink deep and strong.
Be sharp, be brave—refuse to place
Your faith where lies belong.
Only Thought can sift the trash,
Cut through the fog, move on.
Though fools around in slow-motion crash,
Falsehood won’t consume the strong.
Now lies are weapons, clear and grim—
As CowID revealed.
In this deceitful, sinking brim,
Independent minds are nearly killed.
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High-Carbon Lies
Forged deep down to core and base,
The alloy’s made of lies.
Bound tight in that deceitful case,
Just add a spark — it dies.
The core will crack, the bones remain,
A skeleton exposed.
They chant the same dull, twisted strain
For years, in cycles closed.
Now everywhere, bare skeletons stand,
Meat gone, replaced by lies.
Bones like daggers in Reason’s hand —
The Mind with fear complies.
This scene throws all in trembling dread —
An Armageddon’s face,
Of wretched fools long banished, dead,
And Spirit lost from place.
The last small step to Darkness near...
If you surrender here,
Your soul will break, the end is clear —
No light will reappear.
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A Sufi Tale
Fears of Darkness —
News of Light,
Plus the Shackles:
Wild madness’ blight.
Yet it scatters,
Saving Spirit’s flame.
News blows fresh —
The tale’s the same...
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Kicked-Around Life
No fun without the football game —
Hard to spot “ours” in the fray.
In a world of lies and shame,
Only fandom keeps the gray.
“Life” — a sickness; football’s cure.
It’s so simple, if you see
This realm as a kingdom pure —
“The Realm of Nonsense’ spree.”
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To the Bottom
Like stone, I sink into the deep —
Drowned in lies that never sleep.
No escape, no place to run —
Herds stumble blind into the sun.
To break the BOTTOM — fiends’ design,
This Earth’s been chained by hands malign.
Just a step from depths so cruel —
Forget the “spark divine” and rule.
Beneath the BOTTOM lies pure Hell,
Where stupid fiends and demons dwell.
Soullessness — their twisted prize,
In Hell, the only true disguise.
Prepare, for countless soulless spawn
Await where light is dead and gone.
If you forsake the goal above,
You'll reap the “cauldrons” and the “shove.”
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The Grimace of Darkness, or “To Be or Not to Be”
A shabby little world so small,
With minds so weak, so dull, so pall.
But you’re not first, and not alone,
Before the GRIMACE dark has shown.
Into depression, down you fall;
Not first to write the tragic call.
If dreams you chase — you’re deemed insane,
In Darkness, dreaming’s no great strain.
Believe me — “normal” world is bleak,
Its falsehoods strong, its truths so weak.
Forget the lies, the poor, the cursed —
Not helplessness, but worse.
The problem isn’t just to lack,
But solve it firm — and never back.
The only way to break this myth —
Is simply this: NOT TO BE.
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Digestive Truth
Be firm and sharp — no evil feed,
Reject its poison, block its seed.
Evil cycles, always same,
Fail to see — you play the game.
Fascisms shift their masks and lies,
Changing forms, but truth still dies.
To fools they shove a filthy drip —
A brainwashed mind begins to slip.
To make a rotten mind “the norm,”
Call madness protest — cold, lukewarm.
Old story — fascism’s horde
Devours all, burns every sword.
Expose the beast, resist the blight,
Unequal strength in darkest fight.
Noble souls receive no rest—
Death and torment crown the best.
Be sharp, be firm, be just, be true,
With honor, conscience shining through.
The Darkness chokes when you declare
You won’t become its feed or fare.
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Look Deep?
“Look deep,” they say —
But the root’s decayed...
You stand lost in fear and pain
Among the graves again:
Zombies finished all,
Lies crushed the wall.
Fools have fallen far below —
To rot where no lights glow.
Inside — the answers wait.
The root? No — light’s the gate.
Outside, for all with “cheers,”
The path is lined with sneers.
Time’s short — don’t walk to rot,
All is lost in that dark spot.
You seek the few, but can’t you find?
How many in the muck, confined?
So few... Go deep inside —
There’s truth where darkness died.
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We
We—we’re taxmen, Judas crew,
Fools and ****, lost through and through.
Monsters bow to Darkness’ reign—
That’s why all our endless pain.
Few defy the Night’s cold scorn,
All baptized in shame, forlorn.
Rot spreads wide, decay profound,
Mind and Spirit crushed, unbound.
No Last Judgment from the book—
Sun will burn each iron hook
That binds the mind; around, no soul...
Into Flame, these lifeless roll.
Fire fears no soul that's true—
Only shells without a clue
Burn away. That’s Satan’s path,
Claiming gods but stoking wrath.
We—we’re taxmen, Judas slaves:
Forever trapped in Hell’s dark caves.
Few will cross to worlds anew,
Once this cesspool’s burned through.
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The Brewery Brews the Beer
The brewery brews its beer,
The box of lies stews fear:
“Two in one” — live happy, blind,
Sober truth? You’re left behind.
Cop, official, fake doctor guard,
All protect CowID’s yard.
Enemies surround the scene,
Huge the score — “AIDS” won’t sleep.
Enemies bare teeth, alert,
The box of lies will save—assert.
Trust it and you’re safe, they say,
Doubt it? You’re a lost stray.
Belief in fiends is now the norm,
Anything else? The brain’s deform.
The box brews lies like bitter beer;
The brewery’s God — don’t interfere!
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Know Yourself
Know yourself — escape the snare,
The alchemy from Hell’s despair.
Hellhounds claim their fleeting prize
When you send yourself to lies,
Seduced by others’ foolish schemes,
Mixed for beasts, not for your dreams,
Your mind eclipsed, lost in the fray.
In Bedlam, be yourself, obey:
Your Spirit’s core — the answering Light,
Reject all that feeds the night.
Say “No” to Hell — begin to break
The chains that bind; your soul’s at stake.
But if you feed on foreign lies,
Your soul, my friend, will surely die.
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Free Cheese!!!
The world’s a trap — fools rush to seize,
Into the mousetrap with such ease.
If not a sellout, slime you’ll wear —
A broken trough of snot and care.
That trough is cracked, it’s worn and old,
The mousetrap’s lies are bought and sold.
And deeper still — a hidden pit,
A second floor where vultures sit.
Beneath it lies a third abyss,
Dragging down those who still resist.
The stench of this vile world offends —
Is this the world? Or is it hell’s end?
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To Protest Is No Sin
To protest means you’re not deceived,
Resisting keeps your light retrieved.
But if you moan for no good cause,
You’re foolish — trapped in empty laws.
You won’t obey the dark commands,
And guard your soul with steady hands.
Believe the fiends — you feed the Hell,
Where endless torments make you dwell.
Creation and the fight unite,
When Darkness spreads across the night.
If pride rules and routine’s near,
No spark of art — just empty sneer.
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David Icke
Watch David Icke, and read him well—
A master versed in fiends’ dark spell.
Dream of Light amid the vile,
Resist the lies and fears that rile.
Dreaming’s weak — you must engage
Your mind, your gut, to break the cage.
This world’s a filth where serpents reign,
Their goal: to **** the soul’s own flame.
The fight must take a different shape,
New paths of thought you must create.
Though troubled years will come and go,
The **** must still be fought — you know.
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Unread Books
Unread books — just little trash,
Most bind the mind in chains that clash.
Full truth? No chance to get it through—
The editor’s a fiendish crew.
Not an editor, but a beast,
Set by Evil, to say the least.
To feed the rot and spread the blight,
They crush free thought out of sight.
The fewer seeds of meaning found,
The easier to keep minds bound.
So silence every sprout that grows,
And let the dull routine impose.
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Baron Münchhausen’s Method
Drowning deep in lies and mire?
There’s a way to rise much higher!
Grab your hair—still hear the light,
Calling through the endless night.
Spirit pulls—you know it’s true,
All the rest is rotten goo.
If you bear the Evil’s spite,
Time to soar into the light!
Pulled upward—now your flight must last,
Far above the shadow cast.
Wretched hell will steal your soul,
If you sink without control.
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Cataclysms
Cataclysms march—fascism’s stride,
Everywhere it claims its pride.
A half-leader’s cruel enema,
Forced in minds—no true schema.
Friendship’s scarce, almost a myth,
Fascism’s end, its final pith.
Monsters strike with lies precise,
Falsehood reigns—a godlike vice.
Lowest depths now clearly shown,
CowID’s war has deeply grown.
Blood runs cold from filthy lies,
Total **** in truth’s disguise.