6d
You look in a book and you see a fig
You read a book—yet find a fig,
For that’s the game, the oldest trick.
Not just years, but ages long,
Censorship has ruled what's wrong.
Darkness won’t let truth shine bright,
Blinding minds to **** the light.
So for ages, pen to drawer—
Freedom crushed by those in power.
Fear breeds self-censorship still,
Wounds the arts far worse than will.
And of all who bow and kneel,
Literature leads the zeal.
Thus, it feeds the beast’s demand,
Molded by a wicked hand.
Eat the fig—what’s left for you?
Just a fruit that’s rotten through.
---------------------
You're your own critic
No "literary scene" in sight,
So cast your doubts and serve what's true—
Let Honor be your guiding light,
Let Reason be the judge in you.
Your critic, prize, and voice—you own,
Your reader and your harshest foe.
In art alone is peace well known,
Please crowds, betray yourself—sink low.
---------------------
Asymptomatic sheep virus and another hippopotamus clap
Symptom-free, we’ll all get sick—
Swallow lies and learn the trick.
Dare not fight, just nod and stay,
Bleating in the pen each day.
Beasts will jab us, drown in fear,
Dumb the minds and souls we bear.
Poisoned news and terror spread,
Truth is lost, just fear instead.
From the pen into the camp,
Where the cross and flag are stamped—
Marks of "care" from soulless hands,
Crushing what was once the land.
Whips of darkness strike us fast,
Drink up now—who knows how long we last?
TV sludge will dull the mind,
"Ours are right," and so we’re blind.
---------------------
Forced and joyless—won’t achieve,
That’s how fools themselves deceive.
Twisting nature, they betray,
Losing all along the way.
Pain and joy must intertwine—
That’s what makes creation shine.
Fools bring filth and crude excess,
Talent weaves pure wondrousness.
---------------------
A chain on your neck—just a link cut short,
Yet still the same old slavish sort.
A symbol dressed to look refined,
But slaves stay slaves, just more designed.
---------------------
A tie’s the mark of slaves in chains,
Yet fools don’t see—it's all in gains.
Their "thoughts," desires, every goal—
All consumed by rot and dole.
---------------------
I'm leaving for Burkina Faso,
For here it's all just rot and hassle.
The filth has spread, the fools have won,
I’ve had enough—it's time to run.
I’d rather live with crocs and lions,
At least they’re true, without the lying.
But fools are worse, their swarms will smother,
And crush us all to praise another.
The beasts "care"—a twisted fable,
With poison shots at every table.
They stir up wars, they spread the lies,
Feed fear until all reason dies.
And so remains just rot and grime,
A mindless swamp, a wasted time.
---------------------
Rise up and think! The truth is twisted,
Not as the Beasts of Evil claim.
The world’s a mess—how unrealistic!
A test for those who bow in shame.
But don’t be one! Let spirit guide you,
And raise it to the highest tier.
Resist the dark, let courage drive you,
Or live a life of lies and fear.
---------------------
Where are critics, lost in lies,
Drowning deep in mad disguise?
Worshipping old Shakespeare’s name,
Driving Lear to endless shame?
---------------------
Religious crap – it’s always hot,
A tool to keep the slaves in spot.
They preach their "grace" to keep control,
To chain the body, bind the soul.
--- Total 10 poems. ---
You read a book—yet find a fig,
For that’s the game, the oldest trick.
Not just years, but ages long,
Censorship has ruled what's wrong.
Darkness won’t let truth shine bright,
Blinding minds to **** the light.
So for ages, pen to drawer—
Freedom crushed by those in power.
Fear breeds self-censorship still,
Wounds the arts far worse than will.
And of all who bow and kneel,
Literature leads the zeal.
Thus, it feeds the beast’s demand,
Molded by a wicked hand.
Eat the fig—what’s left for you?
Just a fruit that’s rotten through.
---------------------
You're your own critic
No "literary scene" in sight,
So cast your doubts and serve what's true—
Let Honor be your guiding light,
Let Reason be the judge in you.
Your critic, prize, and voice—you own,
Your reader and your harshest foe.
In art alone is peace well known,
Please crowds, betray yourself—sink low.
---------------------
Asymptomatic sheep virus and another hippopotamus clap
Symptom-free, we’ll all get sick—
Swallow lies and learn the trick.
Dare not fight, just nod and stay,
Bleating in the pen each day.
Beasts will jab us, drown in fear,
Dumb the minds and souls we bear.
Poisoned news and terror spread,
Truth is lost, just fear instead.
From the pen into the camp,
Where the cross and flag are stamped—
Marks of "care" from soulless hands,
Crushing what was once the land.
Whips of darkness strike us fast,
Drink up now—who knows how long we last?
TV sludge will dull the mind,
"Ours are right," and so we’re blind.
---------------------
Forced and joyless—won’t achieve,
That’s how fools themselves deceive.
Twisting nature, they betray,
Losing all along the way.
Pain and joy must intertwine—
That’s what makes creation shine.
Fools bring filth and crude excess,
Talent weaves pure wondrousness.
---------------------
A chain on your neck—just a link cut short,
Yet still the same old slavish sort.
A symbol dressed to look refined,
But slaves stay slaves, just more designed.
---------------------
A tie’s the mark of slaves in chains,
Yet fools don’t see—it's all in gains.
Their "thoughts," desires, every goal—
All consumed by rot and dole.
---------------------
I'm leaving for Burkina Faso,
For here it's all just rot and hassle.
The filth has spread, the fools have won,
I’ve had enough—it's time to run.
I’d rather live with crocs and lions,
At least they’re true, without the lying.
But fools are worse, their swarms will smother,
And crush us all to praise another.
The beasts "care"—a twisted fable,
With poison shots at every table.
They stir up wars, they spread the lies,
Feed fear until all reason dies.
And so remains just rot and grime,
A mindless swamp, a wasted time.
---------------------
Rise up and think! The truth is twisted,
Not as the Beasts of Evil claim.
The world’s a mess—how unrealistic!
A test for those who bow in shame.
But don’t be one! Let spirit guide you,
And raise it to the highest tier.
Resist the dark, let courage drive you,
Or live a life of lies and fear.
---------------------
Where are critics, lost in lies,
Drowning deep in mad disguise?
Worshipping old Shakespeare’s name,
Driving Lear to endless shame?
---------------------
Religious crap – it’s always hot,
A tool to keep the slaves in spot.
They preach their "grace" to keep control,
To chain the body, bind the soul.
--- Total 10 poems. ---
