I am the Master, whom you must learn to follow and obey.
Whatever your resolve, I will inevitably have my way.
The other opposed wills? For me they are as mere child's-play

You cannot conceivably resist, so don't bother trying.
Surely a life of submission is so much better than horribly dying.
Swear your obeisance to me now, and you'd better not try lying.

For I am your only Lord, worthy as none before ever was,
As your only true allegiance, I am the one whom guides your cause.
And my punishments are severe and swift, this Lord has teeth and claws.

So bow down before me, and make your sincere and binding vow.
Pledge to your true Master, lest my terrible wrath be brutally aroused.
For I know neither mercy or forgiveness, and so never test my tolerance
Just grant me your loyalty, your fealty, and eternal undying allegiance.
.

They laughed when he showed up
with a résumé in hand.
Tail tucked, horns sanded down,
wore a tie, shook hands.

“I used to tempt kings,
whispered wars into ears.
Now I scroll headlines
and choke back tears.”

He tried marketing
but humans were better
at selling lies with smiling teeth
and discount codes for sin.

He applied for politics
but found the position filled
by those who make devils
blush in admiration.

Tried tech
but algorithms already knew
how to addict, divide,
and hollow out souls
with precision.

Even in war,
they no longer need whispers.
They bomb hospitals
and call it strategy.
He offered corruption.
They offered quarterly targets.

“They don’t need me anymore,”
he sighed to the clerk.
“They’ve mastered the craft.
I was just a spark
They made it an industry.”

Now he wanders,
CV in flames,
hoping someone will want
a washed-up fallen angel
who simply can’t compete
with modern man.

if words are rounds, then I̲'m gonna send
a bullet storm on sordid dictators
being, along with ro[ɑ]tten regimes
of theirs, a bunch of derm inflammations
on the body of the world; disgruntled & mean
I'm your personal Gray Hunt
[Grayson "Gray" Hunt who's a playable protagonist of the "Bulletstorm" game]
I'ma, like someO̲ne who was in—
—volved in spetsnaz & forcibly breaks ones
imprisoned for co[ɑ]nscience from clinks
one-two-three, then the bloodshed begins
[prisoners of conscience; "one to free"]
having heard "no smoking", harsh P—ayne
turned & smack—t Wayne with a "hopeless" ash-tray
["smoking" in the sense of "killing"; Max Payne & Bruce Wayne]
[Batman's "no killing" rule, which is hopeless, as well as Max's existence]
["ane" (one), "twain" (two), "trey" (three)]
————————————————————————————————
it would be nothing short of mendacious
to say I don't wish y'all misfortunate states of
affairs, like divorces & break-ups (crack!)
yeah, all the worst to dictators
hopefully, y'all ****** jerks will be faced with
infernal damnation
for every singular person paraded
civilly through streets in support of good changes
and been delivered brute force in repayment
people in jails & clinks mauled
and denied of med help, disinfo
unjustified wars, liquidations
of those subverting a heinous sociopol. course undertaken
of course, fabrications when it's time fO̲r legal cases
(and elections, of course)
and nowadays, you've got Y̲O̲U̲r pesky agents
working on breaking
the web like Bourne which is Jason (Webb, David)
here come my warm salutations
to that stupid web regulator
that serves the dang Craymlin (got it?)
like your walking shyotka tualetnaya, take a
["toilet brush" in Russian]
[another sobriquet fitting the rhyme scheme: "toilet predator"]
hike; Y̲O̲U̲r limitations
hitting media insubmissive ta
the sick regI̲me which y'all sustain by dint of digital
censorship, to individuals with a set of principles
and views akin/sim. to mine, are like pork to unwave[—]ring
[the word's supposed to be read/pronounced as "unwayvring"]
Muslims; in other words, we evade 'em
(what are you gonna do about it?)
as you were told, better block Y̲O̲U̲r **** BHs
you subservient A-licks
["buttholes"; "a##-lickers"]
————————————————————————————————
now, let's revert to the arch black hats
when you get a just backlash
or, like drinks allowed for thO̲se under eighteen
minor shots, y'all schmucks get sore, 'kin to nates
["shots for minors"]
of someone earned a good lacing
fO̲r misbehaving (just like y'all)
get yourself some butthurt-mitigative
stuff, you scO̲rn-ridden vain ******
you're worthless like an ****** absorbed medication
to you procured a gunshot gorge perforation
but first you'd get your arms
and legs shot in its hinge joint parts
[that is, elbows & knees]
that's some mean **** marks—
—manship; as you may've gathered
like a workforce undertaken
reaping, you depraved dastards
with your regimes are something I'm sU̲re not okay with
minus them paid guarders
with shoulder marks worn & you're Swayze
for when your brainwa[ɑ]shers
and other order-maintaining
tools no longer make masses
conform to the mainstream
acts of force are your last resort
like a semi-island-based palace
[sounds familiar]
housing some gorgeous gals craving
to have some unchaste practice
["lust resort"]
some of those going po[ɑ]liticians or power-wielders
are by then already sordid? like forgery traders
not the type to think so
that's humankind's horrible nature
evolved to a high degree, though
still animals, thus Earth's, in a way, a
jumbo jungle; got a shade sidetracked
like a train, my bad; I'ma explain, like that
Malaysian Boeing Ukraine skies'd had (ex-plane)
[had had]
before it got razed 'kin/sim.
to the outrage of folks storming a place which
a c#cks#cking usurper is based in
["raised"]
the earlier stated
"BFWID"; once you are no more animated
like a cartoon paused, the verdict is plain 'kin/sim.
to a suit that is mourning-related
a torrid vacation, metaphorically saying
yet no point in packing Y̲O̲U̲r freaking raiment
since Y̲O̲U̲r destination's nothing short of pure Hades (if there is)
["sins"]
in fact, unlike some of you, I'm irreligious, but
it doesn't mean I'm cold to medieval stuff
like a hedonistic brush with a chick replete with lust
in this realm, there may be a wicked **[ɑ]t
time for you; akin/sim. to witches stuck
to those stakes, you may end up lit as f#ck
like after a cig. with **** you are
in the garden of the post-en—lightenment time going
["thyme"]
which, in fact, is the reason I
["reason I" is supposed to be read/pronounced as "reasoner"]
and others with opinions similar
to mine think Earth's in need of getting rid of ya
————————————————————————————————
chief authoritarian crooks worldwide
and all those contributing to their rule of vice
you know what have just come tO̲ my mind?
look, douchewads, why
don't y'all take a tiled-rooftop hike?

It’s hard for me to listen to your sorrow and pain
because it reminds me once more and again
of the place far away that I used to know,
the place to which never again can I go

Your story of how the neighborhood you  knew
was burned to the ground; there was nothing you could do
reminds me of how, when I when I turn on the news,
I see starving babies, dead bodies, but no ambulance crew

A coastline of rubble, grey rocks and black smoke
I did what I could, but there is no more hope.
I know it’s my job and the least I can do
to do what I can, to maybe help you.

What you survived was not war but a fire
And the future you face isn’t nearly so dire
But the words that you use and the stories you tell
Reminds me of those murderers who create  living hell

Good and bad —
Light and darkness —
Day and night —
I've tried to be divine,
And I've run from evil,
Or so it seemed...

But the evil within me —
Wouldn't leave;
I pray,
I repent,
I accept shame
as my cloak;
I shrivel the goodness
Unseen...

I split,
Disconnect;
Become a kaleidoscope
of regret.
Days lost
in a fruitless
quest —

Isn't it easier
to just
Embrace the evil within me?!

The arsonist burned everything to ash.
He’d already been hurt in the past.
Due to his fear and lack of cheer,
He’d burn the world down,
Back to the ground.
He’d never let anyone touch him,
Their fingers would be set aflame.
Who needs companionship?
The arsonist thought everyone was the same.
They’d all burn him,
So he’d burn them first.
They’d all hurt him,
So he’d make sure he’s the worst.
So no one will bother,
As he pours the kerosene.
He lights the match,
Stares at the flame,
Wishing that his heart could take the pain.
She left him for another guy,
And he always wondered why,
She betrayed him after he had promised his life,
And stabbed him in the back with a knife.
He flicked the flame into the fuel.
Heard the symphony of crackling.
He’d take the whole world with him,
As it all burned down, he was cackling.

Is the villain just,
A broken, bleeding, hurting,
Human, or not?

Perhaps their pain is,
Justified. But does it clear,
Their slate, leaving crumbs?

Do they feel remorse?
Do they feel any regret, or
Are they too broken?

Listen to their tale,
You do not have to agree.
Show them empathy.