#epsteinfiles - Hello Poetry

LOADING . . . ERROR! VIRUS FOUND. Our minds have been infected by the darkness of the internet. The world is being run by elites. Remember? Or have you forgotten already? The island with a temple, a temple made to sacrifice children. No, don't you dare call them "young women," they were children, teenagers... girls trapped between walls, fearing the worst ways to die. Files upon files of unspeakable offenses, they consumed babies, or their intestines, someone in the files said. They ***** children. T h e y r a p e d c h i l d r e n. Spelling it out for you in case you didn't grasp it yet— But oh, what am I talking about? There were memes circulating! Diddy vs. Epstein No wonder— You would make these kinds of jokes even when the women in your life goes through it. Feminism? — Everyone said feminism is fighting for alimony, being gold diggers, being hateful, selfish. If only they knew, feminism is not about hate towards men, it's about refusing to be silenced. Feminists show partiality, they say, but no one supports a man who was ***** more than a feminist and no one hates that abused man more than other men. "He must have enjoyed it." "He must be gay." You would never understand a survivor until you go through it yourself. In a world where girls are married off before they are even teenagers, and marital **** is legal, and there are group chats on how to drug your own wife, and women and children are sold and trafficked, you dare to say that we do not need feminism? The women who deserve alimony— They are women who were forced to give dowry, or were abused in their own homes. ERROR! THE NATURE WE WERE BORN TO TAKE CARE OF, WE ARE KILLING IT. Of course, keep making more of those A.I. videos! It's fun and games, aren't I right? Keep making more— Until the sun's rays burn into your skin, until the rivers and the streams dry out, till every drop of fresh water in the earth becomes undrinkable and all of us die from dehydration. And at the end, don't you dare regret everything you made using A.I. in the expense of something we were born to cherish. • Air? Polluted more and more every hour of a day. • Water? Let's not even talk about all of the harmful waste... • Trees? Thanks to gardeners, they are still alive. And nature? Nature will heal. It always has, always will, because god resides in the heart of nature. However we try polluting it, it will fight back. But, you? YOU. You know you are a human, right? A bullet can **** you. Hell, a coconut falling into your head from a tall tree can **** you. And what do you do? Participate in ruining the world we live in, or you stay silent, as if it fixes everything. Your voice wasn't given to you to just be entertaining, it was given to defend the voiceless. Speak— louder, clearer. Speak for your fellow humans, speak for the ultimate truth. Speak about the destruction, because one day you will utterly miss the world you were born in and it will never be the same again.

0

Apr 29

Apr 29, 2026 at 2:24 AM UTC

Krish_E_S

The Cost of Being Silent

LOADING . . . ERROR! VIRUS FOUND. Our minds have been infected by the darkness of the internet. The world is being run by elites. Remember? Or have you forgotten already? The island with a temple, a temple made to sacrifice children. No, don't you dare call them "young women," they were children, teenagers... girls trapped between walls, fearing the worst ways to die. Files upon files of unspeakable offenses, they consumed babies, or their intestines, someone in the files said. They ***** children. T h e y r a p e d c h i l d r e n. Spelling it out for you in case you didn't grasp it yet— But oh, what am I talking about? There were memes circulating! Diddy vs. Epstein No wonder— You would make these kinds of jokes even when the women in your life goes through it. Feminism? — Everyone said feminism is fighting for alimony, being gold diggers, being hateful, selfish. If only they knew, feminism is not about hate towards men, it's about refusing to be silenced. Feminists show partiality, they say, but no one supports a man who was ***** more than a feminist and no one hates that abused man more than other men. "He must have enjoyed it." "He must be gay." You would never understand a survivor until you go through it yourself. In a world where girls are married off before they are even teenagers, and marital **** is legal, and there are group chats on how to drug your own wife, and women and children are sold and trafficked, you dare to say that we do not need feminism? The women who deserve alimony— They are women who were forced to give dowry, or were abused in their own homes. ERROR! THE NATURE WE WERE BORN TO TAKE CARE OF, WE ARE KILLING IT. Of course, keep making more of those A.I. videos! It's fun and games, aren't I right? Keep making more— Until the sun's rays burn into your skin, until the rivers and the streams dry out, till every drop of fresh water in the earth becomes undrinkable and all of us die from dehydration. And at the end, don't you dare regret everything you made using A.I. in the expense of something we were born to cherish. • Air? Polluted more and more every hour of a day. • Water? Let's not even talk about all of the harmful waste... • Trees? Thanks to gardeners, they are still alive. And nature? Nature will heal. It always has, always will, because god resides in the heart of nature. However we try polluting it, it will fight back. But, you? YOU. You know you are a human, right? A bullet can **** you. Hell, a coconut falling into your head from a tall tree can **** you. And what do you do? Participate in ruining the world we live in, or you stay silent, as if it fixes everything. Your voice wasn't given to you to just be entertaining, it was given to defend the voiceless. Speak— louder, clearer. Speak for your fellow humans, speak for the ultimate truth. Speak about the destruction, because one day you will utterly miss the world you were born in and it will never be the same again.

83

There were no options; we just had to do it. No need to get her on the mood; she was on. Kisses led to takin’ off each other’s clothes. She’s wearin’ very silky underwear – not a G-string. Nothing at the top, ******* explored. She’s lookin’ real weak like she’s sayin’ “take your time”. Well; I took my time to get her even weaker. Until she says to me; “I want it now”. Whispering breathlessly. Immediately my Greenwich time stood still. Sweats was on a marathon down my face Like a glistening dews of mount Horeb I love it when she starts whispering. I’m still on my boxers. She touches me all over. Even where I thought she wouldn’t. She licks my finger like I’ve never seen. Her body is all mine. We were caught by a hurricane of emotions In between her legs, going softly I could feel her nails on my waist. I can’t stop, she’ speakin’ in tongues. At the end were all quiet. I can hear her heart beat. I stare at her and she smiles a bit. Her smile says: ‘I love you’. I know to her I’m for ever ‘The Man’. Few days later ‘The Man’ is arrested for **** All he can say was; ‘I didn’t know she was sixteen, I didn’t know she was sixteen.’ Poets: A-LONE & V54

0

Mar 15

Mar 15, 2026 at 8:09 AM UTC

NALone

Sweet 6teen.

There were no options; we just had to do it. No need to get her on the mood; she was on. Kisses led to takin’ off each other’s clothes. She’s wearin’ very silky underwear – not a G-string. Nothing at the top, ******* explored. She’s lookin’ real weak like she’s sayin’ “take your time”. Well; I took my time to get her even weaker. Until she says to me; “I want it now”. Whispering breathlessly. Immediately my Greenwich time stood still. Sweats was on a marathon down my face Like a glistening dews of mount Horeb I love it when she starts whispering. I’m still on my boxers. She touches me all over. Even where I thought she wouldn’t. She licks my finger like I’ve never seen. Her body is all mine. We were caught by a hurricane of emotions In between her legs, going softly I could feel her nails on my waist. I can’t stop, she’ speakin’ in tongues. At the end were all quiet. I can hear her heart beat. I stare at her and she smiles a bit. Her smile says: ‘I love you’. I know to her I’m for ever ‘The Man’. Few days later ‘The Man’ is arrested for **** All he can say was; ‘I didn’t know she was sixteen, I didn’t know she was sixteen.’ Poets: A-LONE & V54

32

Naked on the beach and by the pool, photos hung life-size on the walls Anyone who comes here has to see what's on offer: beautiful girls It started with a massage in the luxurious manorial estate Everything was ready They were treated "You haven't had this yet You're so young so wonderfully young And now you, show us you can do it! Massaging is wonderful, isn't it? Let our guests enjoy! Give your hands, give everything! Give yourself at our parties because you, you can be there!"

0

Feb 23

Feb 23, 2026 at 2:28 AM UTC

Zywa

So wonderfully young

Naked on the beach and by the pool, photos hung life-size on the walls Anyone who comes here has to see what's on offer: beautiful girls It started with a massage in the luxurious manorial estate Everything was ready They were treated "You haven't had this yet You're so young so wonderfully young And now you, show us you can do it! Massaging is wonderful, isn't it? Let our guests enjoy! Give your hands, give everything! Give yourself at our parties because you, you can be there!"

20

Lawrence Hall [email protected] Dispatches for the Colonial Office The Strange Adventure of Tarzan, the Epsteinian Files, and The Burn-Bags of Opar I am not at liberty to lay before the inquiring minds of an objective public the manner in which the curious document and chilling testimony below came into my possession except that this was through the offices of a mysterious midnight visitor on business from Porlock with a wooden leg and an ivory eye of curious and antique design – or was that an ivory leg and a wooden eye? – and I must assure the reader that it was the visitor from Porlock who made do with a tapping ivory eye and a sightless wooden leg or sightless eye and tapping artificial leg, not the pleasant village of Porlock, because English villages are possessed of streets and lanes, not eyes and legs, on a stormy night at the time of the equinoctial gales when ships put to sea knowing that they (the crews, not the ships) must place their lives into the hands of our merciful and loving God who knoweth all things and disposeth all things and so now pray take a seat and light your pipe while I set my spectacles aright and read to you this strange narrative entrusted to my discretion and, like, stuff: The Strange Adventure of Tarzan, The Epsteinian Files, and The Burn-Bags of Opar In search of The Lost Epsteinian Files Tarzan slipped into a city ruinous and far And in a secret tunnel that ran for miles Stumbled onto The Burn-Bags of Opar Queen Kristi of Opar, long in love with Tarzan Sacrificed to her gods a dog and a goat Then in an armored golf cart chased him as far as she can (Okay, then, you try to rhyme “Tarzan”) To the edge of the Alligator Alcatraz moat Tarzan, exhausted, thought he was a doomer Kristi was sharpening her sacrificial knife (or loading her thirty-thirty; the records are unclear) But she was death-whispered by Laura Loomer Thus saving the burn-bags and our hero’s life And The Epsteinian Files? The mystery no longer abodes - The scripts for Gilligan’s Island, the lost episodes

0

Jul 31, 2025

Jul 31, 2025 at 8:13 AM UTC

lawrence-hall

The Strange Adventure of Tarzan, The Epsteinian Files, and The Burn-Bags of Opar

Lawrence Hall [email protected] Dispatches for the Colonial Office The Strange Adventure of Tarzan, the Epsteinian Files, and The Burn-Bags of Opar I am not at liberty to lay before the inquiring minds of an objective public the manner in which the curious document and chilling testimony below came into my possession except that this was through the offices of a mysterious midnight visitor on business from Porlock with a wooden leg and an ivory eye of curious and antique design – or was that an ivory leg and a wooden eye? – and I must assure the reader that it was the visitor from Porlock who made do with a tapping ivory eye and a sightless wooden leg or sightless eye and tapping artificial leg, not the pleasant village of Porlock, because English villages are possessed of streets and lanes, not eyes and legs, on a stormy night at the time of the equinoctial gales when ships put to sea knowing that they (the crews, not the ships) must place their lives into the hands of our merciful and loving God who knoweth all things and disposeth all things and so now pray take a seat and light your pipe while I set my spectacles aright and read to you this strange narrative entrusted to my discretion and, like, stuff: The Strange Adventure of Tarzan, The Epsteinian Files, and The Burn-Bags of Opar In search of The Lost Epsteinian Files Tarzan slipped into a city ruinous and far And in a secret tunnel that ran for miles Stumbled onto The Burn-Bags of Opar Queen Kristi of Opar, long in love with Tarzan Sacrificed to her gods a dog and a goat Then in an armored golf cart chased him as far as she can (Okay, then, you try to rhyme “Tarzan”) To the edge of the Alligator Alcatraz moat Tarzan, exhausted, thought he was a doomer Kristi was sharpening her sacrificial knife (or loading her thirty-thirty; the records are unclear) But she was death-whispered by Laura Loomer Thus saving the burn-bags and our hero’s life And The Epsteinian Files? The mystery no longer abodes - The scripts for Gilligan’s Island, the lost episodes

24