"Sleep" and moan; nonsense, fear in mind—
The fools, the monsters, they surround.
It’s not about the things they’re blind,
But about how they’ve sold it down.





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



Chronicles of the Fall

Anthologies of verse,
When fools decay, so vile, so terse,
If poems mirror their disgrace,
Yet still remember light’s embrace,
The fools will bend, the madness spread—
Wild nonsense, everywhere ahead.



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



The Likeness of Food

To let them use you, that's a sin,
A mark so deep, a dreadful thing.
To steal's a lesser crime, they say,
Adultery? Just laugh and play.

The world is built on those we serve,
And from them, all we seek to curve.
But fear the thief who subtly hides,
And turns true friendship into lies.

For bit by bit, they'll tear you down,
Until you can't create, or crown,
To love, to think, to feel, to do —
You’ll be but food, a shell, and through.



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



Long Strategy

In art, take heed —
Measure every rare resource,
Shut the door, don't heed
The chaos, stay on course.
No need for haste —
Time's yours to claim.
Don’t seek joy in waste;
Seek not the fool’s fame.

The meaning's clear —
REALIZATION’s key.
The rest’s just cheer,
Or fools’ mockery.





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



Under CowID

The lice revealed, with CowID shown,
How fragile is the mind, alone,
In this earthly, fleeting plight.
And far ahead, more grief and fright—
We’re nearly lost, almost gone from sight.



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



"Go with the Flow"...

Go with the flow?
Downward, it leads!
Exceptions in
The stench of lies —
Are rare indeed,
For "the flow" is
But decay's own seed.

You’ll drift through filth,
Among the mad,
The twisted ones,
The fools so bad,
In evil's play,
They’ll lead the way.





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



Propaganda, or Below the Bottom

A gang of vile propaganda,
Worse than bandits, war’s own plague—
A vicious crew, the Beast’s agenda,
Their minds no longer in the game.

The nonsense they spread drives them mad,
Their days are short, their time is wrecked—
No depths below, no worse they’ve had,
Man can’t imagine worse, I suspect.



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



Savage Beasts

In the frenzy of deceit,
Dull and rotten, all they greet—
A pitiful, wretched crowd,
Led by a master, stern and proud.
He leads them all to "cure," no choice,
A slaughter’s call, a deadly voice.
The media’s sting will guide the way,
To rid the fools, as lies hold sway...



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



All that was dear has slipped away,
Now fools take center stage today.
The fools are many, vast the sea —
Better madness, wild and free,

Than witness such a vile disgrace.
Not to lose my mind, but face
The insolence in this mad world,
Where Reason’s flag’s been firmly curled.

A few remain, but they don't count,
The “roof” above is full of doubt.
Roof-moving out, an heirloom grand,
A tool for kids to understand:

To live in this decayed domain —
To lie, betray, and bend in vain,
To whine, indulge the Evil's creed,
And sleep through life, without a need.



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



"Real Aryans, huh?"

Down the hill the orcs came sliding,
Squads deployed and took their siding.
Seized the farm with savage drive —
"Great BREAKTHROUGH!" blared the TV live.

Once again it screamed with passion:
"Stir the **** in deadly fashion!
Let them charge the front and fall —
DYING NOW'S THE NOBLE CALL!"

Hired guns with paid ambition —
"Heroes of the pure tradition!"
So the screen begins its preaching:
Propaganda’s dark art — reaching.

But the orcs, with eyes so hollow,
Fail to see the trap they follow:
They're the target — that’s the game.
Meat for coins — that's war’s real name.





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



Pseudo-Life

Filthy stream in murky motion
Spews through Rot with wild devotion,
Crashes ******* Rocks of Lies,
Scooping **** as trophy prize.

Fragile truth sinks in a minute —
**** won’t help; they’re gladly in it.
Rotten stench burns through the air,
But the stream still rushes there —

Heading straight toward the ending,
No use crying, no defending.
Fools drift on, all bright and cheery —
“Life is fine,” they chant, too weary

To care for more than food and gold —
Blinded minds, corrupted, cold.
Brains long poisoned by the stink,
No one stops or dares to think.

Waking them? Beyond all hoping.
All that’s left is silent coping —
Till, at last, the crowd will cry,
Wail and scream… and wonder why.





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



Egocentrism and Infantilism

With iron grip, self-love took hold,
The Psyche bent, the heart went cold.
A planted thought begins to rise —
Now madness dances in the eyes.

Some foreign shard — the shape of vice —
Slipped in, a mask of goats and lies,
A cursed command, a wicked seed
That feeds the Beast, and fans its greed.

This world’s the Goat’s domain entire.
His tool? The Self, in dark attire.
He drives out Spirit, dulls the flame —
Turns all to cattle. That’s his game.

This fascist fog now wraps the land —
A sign we must not fail to stand.
So crush the Judas deep inside —
The foe of Reason, Spirit's pride.

You’ll **** the slave when that is done —
For Judas keeps the chains as one.
And only grown souls break that fate —
It's infants who endure the hate.





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



The Simplicity of Herd Control

The coward’s greedy — start with fear,
Then flash some cash to draw him near.
Once he’s drooling at the prize,
You can pump him full of lies.

No resistance, no delay —
Just have the memes lined up to play.
Fake “research,” a graph or two,
If it fails? Just push on through.

Crank the pressure, feed the stress —
Soon the chaos coalesces.
Systems bend, and minds obey
When memes define the game they play.

Fear and greed — the memetic trigger.
Now they’re beasts, not even bigger.
Once you’ve yoked that lump of clay,
Genocide’s just... policy today.

The BEASTS in charge don’t shed a tear.
Their crawling worms obey in fear —
Fools of every shape and breed.
So few left who still bleed... and heed.



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



The Blind "Scholar" Blabbermouth

The world-view's shattered into shards —
Each fool locked in his mental yard.
They zoom on crumbs with scholar’s pride,
Then launch a howitzer when they try to generalize.

In monkey hands — the scalpel gleams.
The truth? Not part of their grand schemes.
False science serves another goal:
To strangle thought and cage the soul.

Their "proofs" are tools — for mind control,
Spun carefully to trap us whole.
A web well-woven, smooth and tight,
But where's the spider? Out of sight.

The “scientist” — a blinded pawn,
Drunk on dogma, vision gone.
He cranks out nonsense by the ton —
A blind blabbering babbling don.



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



The Law of Large Numbers, or The Slave Majority

Slavery wins — it always thrives
Inside the mind where panic drives.
A stupid brain will fold and flail
The moment fear begins to wail.

Even if the threat is fake,
Just a ghost that nightmares make —
Still they choke and fall in line.
Only few will shout: "Not mine!"

But numbers rule — the world obeys
The darkest herd’s demented ways.
Where madness blooms, the mind grows thin —
And mass delusion always wins.

If you march with them — you're lost.
They’ll drag you down, and that’s the cost.
Step aside. Walk your own thread.
Heart and mind must lead instead.

Let your compass be your flame —
And leave that Bedlam, quit the game.



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



Marriage Amid the Madness

A blue-eyed blonde — a perfect dream?
Just a trick from magazine.
In real life, the vows will fray —
Lies and tantrums rule the day.

Endless nagging, petty fights,
Lonely peace brings clearer nights.
There, your heart and mind survive —
In marriage, wars just... multiply.

Rare exceptions, sure, exist —
But love and friendship? Often missed.
Most are slaves, too dull to feel
Anything that's true or real.

They don’t love — they chase a prize,
“Joy” that’s measured in me-size.
Giving? Ha! Just venom spat.
Without some give, there's none of that.



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



The Fatality of Infernalism

Orcs. "Plagues." The slaughter. Dark.
In lies so total, cold, and stark,
No honest mind can ever join —
They fight alone, they fight in vain.

If this is true, the end is near.
This world’s a sell-out, drenched in fear.
To the New Hell — but after cleansing,
All the wise will be expunged in ending.



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



Deeply Layered Madness Defense

A vicious circle —
The “only friend.”
Or is it madness,
Ringed in the end?

No fresh ideas,
No sense to the schemes.
Around, the Dark
Unravels your dreams.

Break that loop,
Tear the chains.
Stand alone —
With truth that reigns.

That truth — the Soul.
Watch it, slow and deep,
For only it
Escapes the rot we keep.

The world breeds lies,
Hellish in its threads.
Run, run fast —
Before your mind’s dead.



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



Vegetables

Only the potato’s truly free,
Lie to the "citizens," let it be,
They'll swallow it — this "freedom" call,
For brainless fools believe it all.

The veggie culture thrives in lies,
Focused on tricks and shallow cries.
Pollen spreads — decay unseen,
They kneel in fear, just blind to mean.



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



Sheepish

Their fate is lies, they can't deny,
With rotten brains and empty sighs.
Genocide’s their yo-yo game,
A hellish whirl, it’s all the same.



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



Choice? Vyborg or Luga?!
Head beyond — find a friend?
There’s no choice, it’s all pretend,
They led us all through empty trends!

The odds, they calculated well —
That “choice”? Too low, too much to sell!
The only choice? The chains we wear,
Like targets lined up everywhere.

Luga? Who cares — find a girl,
Get drunk, forget the world’s cruel swirl.
And then, don’t forget to drink again —
Forgetting’s just the start of pain...



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



Junk and "Meat Storms"

A freak show: stick a needle in,
March to the meat storm, fight to win —
With the Führer, side by side,
For the "values" they can't hide.

At the end? The orcish bliss —
Stacks of cash, they couldn't miss.
On their knees they begged before,
Now they crawl, forevermore.



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



Thoughts Are Few, But Deeply Grown

Thoughts are few, but deeply sown —
Irritation’s seeds have grown.
Surrounded by the Judas crowd,
Or fools who sell their souls too loud.

Honest ones, you'll find online,
But even there, truth's hard to find.
For in the net, as everywhere,
Lies are just the usual fare.



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



Comics and Clip Culture

An image’s stuck in the mind so tight,
A short text adds to the blinding light.
A fool’s born quick, and he’s all around,
For dumbness is the world’s true ground.

Add a clip — and “progress” shines,
The fools will fill their shallow minds.
From the press, a fool’s unleashed:
A finished idiot — a war at least.

No more need for lies so bold,
Fools can be killed with lies untold.
As CowID showed, it’s not so hard —
Just lie a bit more, and tear apart.



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



Spirit

The calm point within the cyclone’s rage
Is not born, and thus it defies
The law of death — a secret stage,
One that fleeting minds can’t realize.

A cool spot in the raging Hell,
It’s yours if you turn on your mind.
Only through this, it will compel
Your soul, leaving the noise behind.

Lying beasts don’t burn with flame,
But howl to spread their fearful shame.
All for that point — to be the one
That rises, leaving dust undone.



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



The Stone of Sisyphus

Thoughts grow thin,
The body aches within.
Old age brings sorrow,
When... all you see is horror.

Wisdom's ripped away
In "maturity" — they say.
They roll the Sisyphus stone
Up the hill, all on their own.

But for cash, it's all a joke,
Minds grow dull — they’re bound to choke.
The stone will fall —
The fool’s to blame, after it all.





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



Double Führer

Double "Speaker"
Twists the truth,
A blow to the head —
You’re in the tomb, uncouth.



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



Phantasmagoria of the Grown Fool

A grown-up fool,
Acting "wise" today.
For him, it’s all simple —
Just don’t challenge what they say:

Blindly obey.
"Everything’s okay" —
Repeat this mantra,
And ignore the dismay.

Except for money —
That’s the highest goal.
In this world of nonsense,
It’s the only "soul."

That "water" pours,
And the madness grows.
If cash is present,
Then no one knows.

The world’s set to fade —
The fool won’t know,
Wait for your paycheck,
And "water" in the snow.



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



The Futility of Poetry

Poetry's useless,
And prose is in vain;
Claims are all pointless,
No truth left to sustain.

The media’s engine
Runs on twisted tracks.
But where is the thought
In this darkness that lacks?

It’s hard to find it,
You’ll wear yourself thin.
A writer's a hostage,
Trapped deep within sin.

They’ll spin the garbage,
To dull and decay.
The abyss has been pierced —
Moral rot rules the day.





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



"Tragedies" of the ******

The fools' squabbles,
The madman's plight;
Reason goes down,
Like a plague in the night.

Leave the madhouse,
Seek answers within;
With the crowd,
Always "grinning" in sin.



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



Evil Genius

A genius can't be kind —
Only darkness nurtures the vile.
History will show, in time,
The super-evil’s cruel style...

The genius is the father of lies,
And it spawns evil’s spawn.
Bribery first, then alibis —
Mass deception leads the pawn.

The fog of illusion blinds the mind,
And lies are skillfully spun.
The evil "science" twists and binds —
It chills the soul, leaves us undone.



--- Total 31 poems. ---