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Alberto Petrakov Mar 2019
Far and away in the leap of years,
A world of boon or a kingdom of fears !
'T'echnology, simulated-reality , braindeaths, AI,
Void of 'H'umanism, a head for an eye !

Preference to nation, ignorance to natives,
Envisaging transhumanism, transducing sedatives,
Madness advances, values are lost,
Just like sunshine in the stretch of frost !

Ethics loose importance in a fanatic's hand,
Just like water in enormities of sand !
Leaders become fanatic for nation's advance,
Democracy gets stomped in autocracy's dance !

Government intercepts the internet searches,
Encages the bird on freedom's perches,
Restricts the voices against the king,
If dares to question, he cuts her wings !

Humanism protectors narrow ad infinitum,
Their end is necessary for the government's rhythm !
They are jailed and tortured for several years,
The generations ahead are checked in fear.

Media will slave the monarch in reign,
Opinions get locked in falsism's chain.
'Created reality' and 'media simulation',
Virtually happy will be tomorrow's nation.

Hunger of supremacy, verge of war,
Verge of extinction, no 'and, 'but', 'or' !
War begins and innocents die,
Heads are taken in return of an eye.

Far and away in the leap of years,
We will be born in a kingdom of fears,
No one will hear our sorrow and cries,
Void of humanism, heads for eyes !
Media is becomimg the slaves of governments. We are entering world of 'Created Reality' just to make people believe their government is 'good'. Opinions are forced by the biggest terrorists - I don't say media, its the fake media. Majority of them are now under that category 'fake'. Absolutism is increasing and democracy is shrinking behind the scenes.. Its the 'T' vs the 'H'...
Alberto Petrakov Mar 2019
We were going on a trip to the never ending space.

But soon we realized that we’re lost in a place,

Where there is no smell and no taste,

Nothing is useful and nothing is waste.

Not a speck of colour, nor a bit of odour.

There is no darkness, nor a trace of light,

We are not blind but still , we have no sight.

Here, there was no past, so no history,

The time comes to rest, and everything is a mystery !

Everything is silent, there isn’t a voice,

And I think that returning will be a better choice .

I turned around for suggesting I couldn’t dare,

Surprised to see my none of the pals are there !

Now I am lost in this incredible space-ALONE !

And I think that silence is the most horrible tone.

I start remembering, my each moment on earth,

Right from the beginning from the time of my birth.

We shared our happiness, along with our fears.

But now there is nothing which could stop my tears.

Here, there is still something called ‘nothing’.

I don’t know in which part of space am I;

But I’m just lost in this never- ending space !

Thanks for reading .
Alberto Petrakov
Alberto Petrakov Mar 2019
Some questions are unanswered.
Some answers are unsaid.
My childhood pleasures were gifts of Satan,
And Inferno lies ahead.

When I went to bed I seldom slept,
I closed my eyes and thought :
Pain, Torture, Sadism, Masochism,
Gifts that no one got.

Why only me and not my friends,
I often asked the earth,
Feets below in the fires of hell,
Satan waited in mirth.

Inferno was the dream of Satan,
He wanted me destroyed,
Brought me gifts from Infinity of Nature,
Till eighteen years I was toyed.

The thing never meant to me,
Its seriousness was like speck,
Doubtful though I kept travelling,
Alone in life's deck.

Its crescendo went weak and weak,
The conscience although tried,
Tried to keep the child away,
From Satan's treacherous guide.

My mind tore in "Right" and "Wrong",
And the child gradually died,
The eternal smile on whose face was,
Apparel of a typhoon inside.

I started feeling odd in groups,
My world was slowly shaking,
The joys of yesterday's child were,
A criminal in the making.

One night I was alone in room,
Void of people and thoughts,
Trying to summarise my mysterious life,
And connect the distant dots.

Years ago I told my mom,
But my words lacked precision,
"Gradual worsening " : concluded I,
And took the final decission.

That night I penned my last poem,
The "step" was hard but right,
To my horror, I saw yards ahead,
Two fiery eyes in night.

Those eyes were I thought I knew,
The powerful Satan was back,
Casted the spell of rebirth of my "Wrong",
While I urged for an attack.

Blitzkrieg! I grabbed the sword,
In a second I slayed the head,
Blood ran down, I fell headless,
As Inferno lay ahead.

But some questions are still unanswered,
And some answers are unsaid,
The pleasures of my childhood were Satan's gifts,
And Inferno lay ahead !

(A fictional suicide note.
#Battling the Evil Me
©Alberto Petrakov)
Criminals have a different mindset from childhood only. Be they robbers, rap***, etc.

— The End —