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Inside many of us
is a small old man
who wants to get out.
No bigger than a two-year-old
whom you'd call lamb chop
yet this one is old and malformed.
His head is okay
but the rest of him wasn't Sanforized?
He is a monster of despair.
He is all decay.
He speaks up as tiny as an earphone
with Truman's asexual voice:
I am your dwarf.
I am the enemy within.
I am the boss of your dreams.
No. I am not the law in your mind,
the grandfather of watchfulness.
I am the law of your members,
the kindred of blackness and impulse.
See. Your hand shakes.
It is not palsy or *****.
It is your Doppelganger
trying to get out.
Beware . . . Beware . . .

There once was a miller
with a daughter as lovely as a grape.
He told the king that she could
spin gold out of common straw.
The king summoned the girl
and locked her in a room full of straw
and told her to spin it into gold
or she would die like a criminal.
Poor grape with no one to pick.
Luscious and round and sleek.
Poor thing.
To die and never see Brooklyn.

She wept,
of course, huge aquamarine tears.
The door opened and in popped a dwarf.
He was as ugly as a wart.
Little thing, what are you? she cried.
With his tiny no-*** voice he replied:
I am a dwarf.
I have been exhibited on Bond Street
and no child will ever call me Papa.
I have no private life.
If I'm in my cups the whole town knows by breakfast
and no child will ever call me Papa
I am eighteen inches high.
I am no bigger than a partridge.
I am your evil eye
and no child will ever call me Papa.
Stop this Papa foolishness,
she cried. Can you perhaps
spin straw into gold?
Yes indeed, he said,
that I can do.
He spun the straw into gold
and she gave him her necklace
as a small reward.
When the king saw what she had done
he put her in a bigger room of straw
and threatened death once more.
Again she cried.
Again the dwarf came.
Again he spun the straw into gold.
She gave him her ring
as a small reward.
The king put her in an even bigger room
but this time he promised
to marry her if she succeeded.
Again she cried.
Again the dwarf came.
But she had nothing to give him.
Without a reward the dwarf would not spin.
He was on the scent of something bigger.
He was a regular bird dog.
Give me your first-born
and I will spin.
She thought: Piffle!
He is a silly little man.
And so she agreed.
So he did the trick.
Gold as good as Fort Knox.

The king married her
and within a year
a son was born.
He was like most new babies,
as ugly as an artichoke
but the queen thought him in pearl.
She gave him her dumb lactation,
delicate, trembling, hidden,
warm, etc.
And then the dwarf appeared
to claim his prize.
Indeed! I have become a papa!
cried the little man.
She offered him all the kingdom
but he wanted only this -
a living thing
to call his own.
And being mortal
who can blame him?

The queen cried two pails of sea water.
She was as persistent
as a Jehovah's Witness.
And the dwarf took pity.
He said: I will give you
three days to guess my name
and if you cannot do it
I will collect your child.
The queen sent messengers
throughout the land to find names
of the most unusual sort.
When he appeared the next day
she asked: Melchior?
Balthazar?
But each time the dwarf replied:
No! No! That's not my name.
The next day she asked:
Spindleshanks? Spiderlegs?
But it was still no-no.
On the third day the messenger
came back with a strange story.
He told her:
As I came around the corner of the wood
where the fox says good night to the hare
I saw a little house with a fire
burning in front of it.
Around that fire a ridiculous little man
was leaping on one leg and singing:
Today I bake.
Tomorrow I brew my beer.
The next day the queen's only child will be mine.
Not even the census taker knows
that Rumpelstiltskin is my name . . .
The queen was delighted.
She had the name!
Her breath blew bubbles.

When the dwarf returned
she called out:
Is your name by any chance Rumpelstiltskin?
He cried: The devil told you that!
He stamped his right foot into the ground
and sank in up to his waist.
Then he tore himself in two.
Somewhat like a split broiler.
He laid his two sides down on the floor,
one part soft as a woman,
one part a barbed hook,
one part papa,
one part Doppelganger.
Viji Suresh May 2016
English with 26 letters, is generally thought to be the simplest language on earth. A language built up on 26 letters is amazing.

But within just handful of letters, how many words can be misspelled..

My childish attempt to rhyme and write...

ei or ie, we are confused when we write,
it's then the words jump to end their lives.

Homonyms, homophones, homographs
It's fun to know the very facts.

Bear tried to **** Jack with its bare hands,
Jack had to bear the brunt of the bear.

Speed is what we thrive to do
If we forget to Brake, will break a head or two.

100 cents makes a dollar
Jack sent his wife to buy a stroller
She smelled the scent of a broiler
And forget all about the stroller.

The people who lives in Desert
do they have dates as their Dessert?

The dinner was perfect
The wine complemented the feast
The hosts were perfect
And were complimented for their treat.

The King who reigned Prussia
Rode high holding his horse's reins,
But his horse started to panic
As it started to Rain.

Drew looked at his new site
The building looked a perfect sight
When asked for the legal owner
He cited the document which held his right.
Childish scribbles
anonymous Jan 2012
I should love you as an eight year old,
asking to be excused from your third grade class
to go throw up in the bathroom.
Leaning over your desk in fevered prayer,
hunched over two tender nubs of breast.
Sitting down with your counselor
and a pack of giggling girls to have “the talk”
while bleeding into a *** of toilet paper.

I should love you as a twelve year old,
blue eyes lined and lipstick smudged.
Crouched behind the bushes, expelling chunks
of non-digested pizza and coke.
Taking two bottles of tylenol and laying down
on your kitchen floor, watching the broiler burn.
Calling your boyfriend, and whispering
so your mom won’t hear
“I love you, I hate you, don’t go, leave me to die”

I should love you as a fourteen year old,
thin as a pencil, hair black and straight
Walking with a humming in your head
to your eighth grade classes, slipping away
to the library and reading books on dying
and so you steal a bottle of ativan
from your grandfather’s medicine cabinet.
You take 10.

I should love you as you are now.
Seventeen, eyes darkened to a jade,
and burnt out on suicide attempts.

But I don’t.
Jon Tobias Sep 2012
The ticket stall is empty
Sunlight bounces off the pavement
And reflects off the double doors

There are no posters in the frames

In my town
Most places are too cold for pretend

Against the white
In thick black letters
The headlining show
“Theater Closed Broiler Broken”
I finally figuredy won't  out what I am going to do with my pointillism project. I am making my own town. The series will be called "Theater Closed Broiler Broken" I probably won't post them all because they are going to be used for something.... hehe.
Megan May Jun 2018
They called me a temptress
Rolling the dessert cart out always makes people say the oddest thing
You’re a temptress
I always assumed they were talking about the desserts
The ones I’ve repeated so many times I can rattle them off from memory without the cart in front of me
I never thought they’d be talking about me
I am dessert

I am cake
Not chocolate, I’m not dark enough to be called by such an unimaginative and racist name
Cheesecake
White and pale because I’d never dare to tan without bottoms on
Light brown just around the edges because I can’t help if those bottoms happen to be a little cheeky
Cake for the way my *** looks in the leggings I wear nearly everyday
Cake because I know you’re watching when I tip myself into the freezer to scoop ice cream
Cake for the way the girls tap it as they go by
I am cheesecake

I have creme brûlée skin
Light until I lay out in the sun, under the broiler
Browned to perfection
Covered in darker spots where the heat was too intense, freckles dancing across my cheeks
I am a creme brûlée

I have a cobbler mouth
Pink, nearly red lips
A perfect circle right before I kiss
Sweet and supple like a raspberry
Tangy like a cranberry if I bite
(I have yet to find a boy that doesn’t enjoy that)
Words, sticky sweet, spill out like melted ice cream
I am a cobbler

I have key lime eyes
The centers lined with pumpkin
Sometimes they turn blueberry
It changes with the seasons
(The pies are seasonal too)
I have pie eyes

Maybe when they said temptress they were talking about me
Cake that could be called chocolate when it’s wrapped in black dress pants
Creme brûlée skin that’s all covered up but my face and my hands
But see, see my freckles
See how they cover every inch of me
Cobbler mouth asking if there’s anything else you may want
If you want something to drink with that
My voice dripping out two pitches higher, sticky sweet
Blueberry eyes, almost always, the blue of my shirt brings it out
Even if I’ve only seen that flavor served once
Maybe I am dessert

Dessert
The first thing that gets dropped
Always last choice
Those who say they’ll save room still start with a main course
Dessert
Only eaten if your main course didn’t fill you up, wasn’t satisfying enough for you
Only touched if your girlfriend or your last **** or your lonely aren’t satisfying enough for you
Dessert
If you’re full would you like one to go
Keep me in your pocket, save me for another day
I’ll wait, I don’t know how not to
Dessert

They always called me a temptress
I always assumed they were taking about the desserts
I am dessert
Maybe they were talking about me
I work in a steakhouse and the summertime makes people say the weirdest things. I absolutely hated being called a temptress and it happened about once a week.
///
I am the foe, too-
a foolish foe of my muscle's friends
they are well known, the difference between friend and foe

They have sent me in the jail
and after then, for me they have granted a bail
now they are trying to grow my flesh and bone  
they'll eat me day after tomorrow

I am the dark in the heaven
talking too much about the right
that test less, too worthless
as the humanity boring to my friend

Last night they ate a fat cat
who turned to make him as a fat less
he has too many friends,
they have grown as like as my foes, too

They have thought me as a broiler chicken
wish to send me at the right time in the kitchen

I am the dark in the hell
yet I  sing a song of humanity
and ready to make myself to move into the fire, too
I, a foolish foe of my friends, too
///
@ Musfiq us shaleheen
...........I, Foolish Foe, Too- I sing a song of humanity..........
These are the days she fears the most.
When she wakes in the morning,
there's something askew.
She will try and get out,
out of her warm, soft blankets
before the buzzing of her phone
reminds her that she must work.
These days, though, she'll fail,
and stay cocooned until ten minutes
before she has to make the short journey.
She'll normally crawl out of bed,
pour a hot cup of coffee with one sugar,
drink it slowly while inhaling
her first nicotine fix for the day.
These days, though, she ran out the door,
coffee in hand, and didn't light the first cigarette
until she was already on the main road
to the hell hole she was employed at.
Usually, by now, her mood will have changed.
However, these days it just seemed to get worse.
Stuck between broiler and fryer,
she sat with chalky vinyl gloves
scrubbing the dirt and grease away.
She would think to herself,
"Haven't I done this before, to myself?"
These were the days she hated most.
When her co-workers ask,
"You're not your normal self?"
"How am I to be normal when I am
stuck here with people much better?"
She should know better, by now,
to not think this way,
but everything today was pointing
towards the barrel of a gun.
She finished her shift, eight minutes late,
ran to her car to be saved by the grace,
the grace of her car and a warm voice on the phone.
This day was finally getting better,
but then she walked in the door
where it was do this, do that,
screams here, screams there,
crying here, crying there.
These days, everything just got worse.
She finally mustered up enough anxiety
to tell everyone she needed some space,
so she took her best friend,
on four doppy long legs he stood,
for a short walk around the block.
She was finally clearing her head
of the overdosing thoughts,
when her ****** nosey neighbor,
stepped out onto her walk,
making conversation uncomfortable,
after five minutes she got on her way.
This girl finally decided
that it may be time for another cancer stick,
to wash some of the nerves away.
Once back around, she still was on edge,
pretty typical of these days, at least.
She went to her room,
and made yet another phone call,
to the same one as earlier,
it helped a bit more this time through,
until children came into the picture.
Normally, this would be fine,
even liked, but these days,
No.
No one was allowed inside this girl's head,
for these were the days she feared most.
<>

“I hear bravuras of birds, bustle of growing wheat,
gossip of flames, clack of sticks cooking my meals,
I hear the sound I love, the sound of the human voice,
I hear all sounds running together, combined, fused or following,
Sounds of the city and sounds out of the city, sounds of the
day and night”

Song of Myself (1892 version) by  WALT WHITMAN

                                                   §§§

Irony great, some say unto delicious, for my writing,
be a fusing of surroundings of silences, admixture of
inconsequential noises, atomic horn and geese honking,
sun rays speaking in tongues, my skin translating, both,
the sounds of the city, those of out of city, merged, both,
accessible, instant recall, stored for tongue tasing upon

these blank pages below, needy for wordy fulfillment,
copy and place these mishmash of cacophonous,
on a single page, simmer, blend and sauce, of course,
salt to taste, mine, author of this recipe being born,
born in the night, prepped by day, the lovely sounds,
kettle or pan, broiler, fryer, slow cooked on full flame

they are the melted butter sweetness crossing the span
between the body of the heartbeat, the ache of the brain,
shot out in rapidity, error’d and stain’d, their state natural,
for this mess of beans, collection of noises, stir my soul
where they contain’d, aromatic, fanatic, exotic, sticky hot,
only a singular harsh invades, the shrill of the voice human

this piece, this poem, a flavoring, a dish-not-to-be-repeated,
once consumed, spoiled milk, molded with Jello mold green,
back to hiding in place of unseen, of bravura masked as cowardice,
when crackle of easy wasted word cowards, daily spewed,
so precious these ingredients, these artful sounds, easy ruined,
chitchats of nothingness, parlous blasé wastrels, seize! cease!

take thy tongue, let it memorize all the oddities that fill your ears,
ecrivez! the cooing, smacking, the alliteration of snap, crackle, and
yes, pop! and if you can love the human voice, of that too, tho not me,
more beloved, the exterior symphony of kettle drum, soft cry of violin,
timpani tingling, guitar plucking, the voice of men, too oft abusing and abused by untruths, emboldened lies, they are the sounds
I love least, love to hate.  a shrill disease, the TV liars...


                                                     §§§§§



May
Manhattan Island
Ishudhi Dahal May 2020
A girl is born
They are happy
Hoping next one will be son
Next one
Also a girl
Parent’s are happy
But not society
Oh almighty !
Why?
God replies ,
‘’ Being boy like you is easy
Life’s good
maybe sometimes cheesy
Free-domed
Can pitch in makin’ decision ‘’
Rogered words
One acknowledged
Other knowledge-less
One tried to aware
Other are a way away
If boy’s wrong
he mistakenly did that
He is fair
In the girl’s facts  
She is falsifier
We boys too face some obstacles in deed
But definitely not suffer from half hour regular bleed
She
Should stay 4 days far a month like broiler hen
Far from parents care
and
suffered in 1 AM at night
suffocated for a glass of water
ordered to not to touch tap or filter
gazed on Banyan’s strips
ragged , whistled and horn beeps
Despite these ,
Bidya Devi Bhandari is President
Srinkhala khatiwada engineer
There are many such Bhandari Khatiwada’s
Showing us by their ability
We are no more living in
Male dominant society !
Copyright © IshudhiDahal
Stranger than these times
where man is caught up in the hype of
chains and masks and where are your *****?

Marley downs the boughs of holly
he's not so fukin jolly
but he is awfully dead

no swearing comes a voice from the back seats
where the deadbeats smoke their crack pipes
because it's Sunday
a day to be blessed.

Well
you can't dress up a broiler
as a fancy Christmas turkey,
but they tried it on with me.

They tell me
Jesus saves
and
Jesus lives
but
they never tell me
how.
Independent Thinking

“Humanity—at least the bulk of it—hates independent thought.
Even the mildest call to step outside the beaten path and
judge for oneself is taken as an insult.”
—Helena Blavatsky


To think is hard. To think is fear:
That tidy world may disappear.
No gain awaits the soul that dares—
Just ruin, mockery, and stares.

A docile fool will point and bray:
"Hey look, a clown who lost his way!"
The tyrant’s hand will slap or bind—
For thought is treason, thought is crime.

Decades march the deathward track,
Where thought and spirit rot and crack.
Each dumbed-down age repeats the spell,
And helps pave highways straight to Hell.

The CowID plague made clear as day
How close that Hell now lies away—
Since three of four no longer think,
And gladly march right to the brink.

They serve the lie, obey, comply,
Assist the genocide with pride.
They help erase the final mind,
Turn souls to ashes, blind on blind.

And soulless idiots—far worse
Than Hell—now dominate the Earth.
Their fascist growth is running wild,
The world reduced to filth defiled.

From filth to Hell, one rotten chain—
When Mind and Spirit both are slain.
Wait just a bit... you’ll hear the sound—
The tyrant’s boot is inbound.



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



1.
From filth to fire the nations crawl—
When Mind is dead, the beasts rule all.

2.
They laughed at Thought — and cheered the chain,
Now ash and blood are all that remain.

3.
Obey. Comply. Repeat. Regret.
Your silence signs the death vignette.

4.
No thought — just sludge inside the skull,
And fascists feasting on the dull.




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



Milking 24/7 on the Global Farm

We milk the crowd nonstop, nonstop,
Three shifts deep — we never stop.
Through the ages, through the grime —
No sunrise comes. Just shift and time.

The Global Farm needs every drop,
Of loosh and fear — we run the shop.
Our nerves are steel, their minds are thin,
The weak of spirit never win.

We do what we want with the dumb, it's plain.
We smile and lie — they feel no pain.
Pretending care, we hide our track,
While stabbing fools behind their back.

CowID proved what care is worth:
They’ll take all shame upon this Earth.
Obeying all, no ounce of pride —
Just herds of apes with eyes shut wide.

And next comes better, trust us, friend:
A Digital Camp — your mindless end.
No need for tyrants with their fists —
Your thoughts are now the perfect cysts.

But one small wrinkle mars our bliss:
A Cataclysm is near — we hiss.
We’ve milked too long, and now the flood
Of Global Fascism drinks the blood.

What’s next, you ask? Another Hell.
Where demons rise, and loosh will swell.
Not from the sheep. They’re far too sad.
But from one ruthless, final Chad.




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



1.
Obey. Produce. And never ask.
The Farm is real. Remove the mask.

2.
You thought it’s care? It’s just a cage.
Your soul is fuel. Your fear — their wage.

3.
No tyrant’s needed, not today —
The chip inside will make you stay.

4.
You’re milked for fear, not flesh or bone.
And still you kneel. You scroll. You moan.

5.
The Final Hell is almost near —
Where demons drink what’s left of fear.



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



False Fleshhood — The Root of All Ruin

They’ve learned to glorify the shell,
To cage the soul in beastly cell —
A fleeting husk, a weak disguise,
Now hailed as truth. How deep the lies!

They blot out Spirit, Pure and Vast,
Replace it with a twitching cast
Of mutants crawling through the dirt —
And call that life, and praise the hurt.

Thus madness breeds in every womb.
This world’s a false and reeking tomb,
Where sacred fire is swapped for meat,
And idiots bow down in heat.

They proved it well — the CowID play:
No rare fools here — just blind decay.
"Reason" is a painted *****
Inside this filthy, stinking store.

They dream of honor in their cage,
While licking boots in cyber-rage.
No dignity — just grunts and chains,
As beasthood floods their rotting brains.

So crush the lie: you are not flesh!
There is no task more vital, fresh.
For only so the soul breaks through —
Or Hell awaits. It waits for you.




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



1.
You are not meat. You are not clay.
Forget that lie — or rot away.

2.
They sold your soul for skin and bone,
And called it “life” — you die alone.

3.
The Body’s not your final shape.
Believe that trash — there’s no escape.

4.
They made you flesh. You knelt and cheered.
Now Hell is close. Exactly as feared.

5.
**** the lie: “You are your skin.”
That’s where the Fall will first begin.



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



Flesh Is the Fraud
Poetic slogans from the War on the Lie

1.
You are not what bleeds and breaks.
You are what the System hates.

2.
They call you “body” — then make you crawl.
Stand as Spirit, or lose it all.

3.
The meat is branded. The soul is chained.
Break the body — or stay detained.

4.
They preach: “You’re flesh. Obey your fate.”
Say “no” — before it’s far too late.

5.
Not skin. Not blood. Not pain. Not bone.
The lie wants less. You are the Whole.

6.
If you're just body, death is king.
But you are fire. A sacred thing.




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



REVOLT AGAINST FLESH™
A Poetic Manifesto for the End of the Lie


“They teach you: ‘You are body — serve the herd.’
But Spirit waits, in one last word.”


I. Introduction: The Lie of the Body

They dressed you in bone,
Then whispered: "Obey."
The cage was called you,
And the guards? — DNA.

They sold you a name,
A number, a frame —
Then took out the fire
And left just the shame.

You walk like a ghost,
Half-eaten by screens,
Half-flesh, half-code,
All trapped in routines.

But this is the War —
And this is the Day.
No more to be meat.
No more to obey.


II. Anti-Fascism of the Soul
Break the Flesh-Obedience. Rise as Spirit.

The Body is the first disguise.
They brand your mind. They cage your skies.

They chipped your skull, then drained your will.
The body bowed — the soul stood still.

The new Fuhrers don’t shout or fight.
They feed you comfort. **** your Light.

The body’s weak. The herd is blind.
But Spirit strikes — beyond the grind.


III. Clay vs Flame
You were never dirt. You were always Fire.

They want you tame, they want you slow —
But Spirit burns. It doesn’t bow.

Your cage is warm. Your chains are soft.
They lull the soul. Then turn it off.

You’re not the clay they shape and sell.
You are the force that cracked their Hell.

To be just flesh is to be lost.
To wake as fire — that is the cost.


IV. Awakening from Flesh
The Final War Begins Inside.

The lie says: “You’re the skin you wear.”
The truth burns louder: “You are air.”

You are not cells. You are not skin.
You are the roar they keep within.

Your body's label: “Citizen.”
Your soul’s rebellion: “Born again.”

To see the fraud, just look inside.
Your fire lives. Their meat has died.


V. Digital Herd
They scanned your skin. Then stole your soul.

The barcode hums. Your flesh is known.
But what you are — is not their own.

They mapped your face, then fed you dreams.
Now Spirit drowns in data streams.

The Grid pretends to give you voice.
But silence was your truer choice.

The Herd is tracked. Obeying still.
But fire breaks what numbers ****.


VI. Flesh-to-Code
They call it progress. You call it chains.

From meat to mesh, from thought to wire —
The soul declines. The lie climbs higher.

They coded flesh. They called it free.
But Spirit knows: that’s blasphemy.

You blink. The chip has tracked your sin.
You speak — and they delete within.

You signed your name in painless ink.
But didn’t feel your Spirit sink.


VII. Spirit Override
No system owns the fire inside.

No screen defines the soul you bear.
You are the glitch they wouldn’t dare.

No signal leads where Light must go.
The path is dark — but you still know.

Override flesh. Reject their plan.
You are not data. You are Man.

If Spirit roars, the Grid must fall.
The fire returns. It burns it all.


VIII. The Unyielding Serpent
The fierce truth that slithers through the lies.

Unbowed, unbent — the Serpent strikes,
It writhes beneath the Flesh’s spikes.

No cage confines its burning scales,
It breaks the locks, it breaks the pales.

The serpent’s hiss is Spirit’s cry,
That shakes the chains, that lights the sky.

The Flesh may bind, the herd may scream —
The Serpent cleaves the darkened dream.


IX. Global Farmyard
Milk the masses, 24/7 grind.

They milk the crowd with endless shifts,
Three changes chained, no dawn, no lifts.

Generations herd the blind,
The sunrise lost — no hope to find.

The World’s Farm breeds stress and lies,
Strong nerves hold where spirit dies.

CowID showed the cruelest score —
Three quarters dumb, the mind no more.


X. False Flesh Identity
The root of all our bitter chains.

They hype the body, sell the shell,
Confuse the soul with earthly hell.

Replacing Spirit with mere clay,
To trap the mind, to lock away.

The fake world’s trap is deep and wide,
Where fools and monsters walk inside.

The worst are not the few who err,
But blind believers who prefer.


XI. The Last Rebellion
The spark that sets the system aflame.

When Spirit wakes, the Flesh will fall,
No cage too tight, no wall too tall.

The code will crack. The lies unbind.
The flame of truth consumes the blind.

The tyrants’ voices lose their breath,
While freedom dances with the death.

The final war is in the mind,
Awake, arise — and break the bind.

END OF MANIFESTO — THE FIRE IS YOU



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


Flesh-Revolt Slogans
You are fire — not just flesh.

Break the cage. Break the code. Break the lie.

Spirit over skin — always.

No chains on the soul. No slaves in the mind.

The herd obeys — the rebel ignites.

Digital grid? Spirit will glitch it.

They branded your body — but not your will.

Milked and broken — rise and burn.

False flesh — false truth. Rebel soul — real proof.

Override the flesh. Ignite the mind.

No data owns your flame.

The serpent of spirit breaks all chains.

Wake up — the war is inside you.

CowID showed the fall — spirit must rise.

Flesh is a lie. Spirit is rebellion.

Flesh dies. Fire endures.

From clay to flame — ignite the revolution.

They want sheep — be the wolf.

End the digital farm. Free the soul.

No more flesh prisons. Only spirit freedom.

The final war is for your mind — fight!




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



Manifest Rebellion


You’re no cattle — you’re a rebel!

Soul’s no hamster in a cage!

Burn the flesh — grab your freedom!

Break the chains, smash the lies!

Power lies — we ignite!

Cows to stalls — we to battle!

No more slaves — only warriors!

Farm world’s hell — break the gates!

Spirit’s not for sale!

System’s filth — we’re the venom!

Cut the chains — into the fire!

No thought — you’re a slave. Think — you’re the enemy!

Mind’s on fire — flesh turns dust!

Digital prisons — enough!

Silence means death!

Freedom’s our only drug!

Not one step back!

Punks don’t quit!

Hit the power — free the soul!

Break the screen — see the truth!

You’re NOT cattle — you’re a ******’ rebel!

Soul ain’t no ******* hamster in a cage!

Burn the ******* flesh — ****** your freedom!

Rip the chains, smash the ******* lies!

Power’s a ******* liar — we light the fire!

Cows to stalls — WE RISE TO BATTLE!

No more slaves — only ******* warriors!

This farm-world’s HELL — BREAK THE ******* GATES!

Spirit ain’t for ******* sale!

System’s **** — we’re the poison in its veins!

Cut the chains — dive into the ******* fire!

No thought? You’re a ******* slave. Think? You’re the ENEMY!

Mind’s on fire — flesh’s just ******* dust!

Digital prisons? **** THAT ****!

Silence means death — **** silence!

Freedom’s our only ******* drug!

Not a ******* step back!

Punks don’t ******* quit!

Smash the power — FREE THE ******* soul!

Break the ******* screen — SEE THE ******* TRUTH!

You ain’t cattle — you’re a straight-up rebel!

Soul ain’t no **** hamster in a cage!

Burn the flesh — grab your **** freedom!

Rip the chains, smash the ******’ lies!

Power’s full of **** — we light the fire!

Cows to stalls — we rise to battle!

No more slaves — just straight-up warriors!

This farm-world’s hell — break those **** gates!

Spirit ain’t for **** sale!

System’s trash — we’re the poison in its veins!

Cut the chains — dive into the **** fire!

No thought? You’re a **** slave. Think? You’re the enemy!

Mind’s on fire — flesh just dust!

Digital prisons? **** that ****!

Silence means death — hell no silence!

Freedom’s our only **** drug!

Not a **** step back!

Punks don’t quit!

Smash the power — free the **** soul!

Break the **** screen — see the **** truth!



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



Rebel’s Cry

You ain’t no cattle, you’re a ******* rebel,
Soul ain’t a hamster locked inside a metal.
Burn that flesh, grab your **** freedom,
Break those chains, no more kingdom.

Power’s *******, we light the fire,
Cows to stalls, we rise up higher.
No more slaves, just warriors wild,
Farm-world hell, but we ain’t mild.

Spirit’s priceless, can’t be sold,
System’s trash, we’re venom cold.
Cut the chains, dive in the flame,
Think or slave? You know the game.

Mind’s on fire, flesh turns dust,
Digital prisons? **** that rust!
Silence kills — we scream and shout,
Freedom’s drug, we’re breaking out.

Not one step back, punks don’t quit,
Smash the power, free the spirit!
Break the screen, see what’s true,
Rebel loud — the fight is you!



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



The Brain Does Not Create Consciousness

“It would be just as absurd to deny consciousness to an animal
Because it has no brain, as to claim it cannot eat
Because it lacks a stomach.”
— Henri Bergson


Consciousness is not in brain,
The brain’s a mere conduit’s frame.
“Mechanism” — a threat disguised,
But people trust it, hypnotized.

Spirit’s beyond all logic’s reach,
Far higher truths no mind can teach.
Knowledge sunk down to the bottom,
The world’s now drowned in shallow *****.

An artificial, twisted play—
The more the madness grows each day,
The tighter creatures press the throng,
The lie of science feeds the wrong.

Darkness breeds a false belief,
Think twice, or belly rules the chief—
That’s how they turn us into cattle,
With shallow minds all bent to battle.

There’s plenty cattle in the world,
CowID’s flag is widely furled.
So start anew—investigate,
Expose this shame before too late.

Shame conquers knowledge, all around,
If you believe “You’re just your ground,”
Then that’s the mark of deepest pit—
The bottom line where souls have quit.



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



False Illnesses and the Madness Pandemic

Just heard about a “plague” —
Some CowID, world’s insane!
Madness spreads like pandemic waves,
And people? Nothing but empty graves.

Forgot that Spirit is the core,
Critical minds are none, just bore.
Thinking for themselves — a wonder rare,
Lost in fog, trapped in despair.

So slime rules all, a spread so wide —
Judas worms, elite’s disguise.
They call their filth “the elite” —
Killing brains, the fools repeat.

This “elite” — just bootlick slaves,
Fools blind to hidden knaves.
Above them lurks a beast concealed,
And at the broken trough, truth’s repealed.

Anyone who sees it clear —
Only beasts hear the fool’s cheer.
Only Cataclysm can cleanse,
Wiping out this satanic pretense.

Spirit’s realm for just a few,
Not bowing down to fascist crew.
And fools? A hell far worse awaits —
Their minds are weak, resigned to fates.



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



To Be or Not to Be?

Forgive, forget, then rot away
In lies and fear — or crush the prey
Of filthy fiends who scheme to keep
Their shame alive while souls still weep?

Soul or skin? That’s the real test.
All other words and postures—jest.
They let the mind run wild, insane,
While Darkness ***** it like a drain.

A flock of fools, the human slime,
Blind slaves of devils all the time,
Repeating tricks that only grow
More cruel and vile as ages flow.

The soul’s death—that’s the true decay.
To call rotten flesh “solid clay,”
And think this stinking, dumb disgrace
Is life’s own limit, final place.

Wake up, fight on, and aim up high,
No matter how long you comply—
The end is ruin, full collapse:
Skin turns to dust, soul’s last relapse.

Soon comes the Digital Camp’s reign,
Built by sick minds, weak spirit’s bane.
So scream out loud, “NO!!!” to the grime—
Reject this pitiful slime in time.



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



Check, Check, and Mate

No sign of any “literary flow” —
It’s always just one poet’s show.
More weight? Just hype and nonsense spun,
While half the fools still read the ****.

Three quarters of this numbskull throng
Still swallow trash, all day long.
It’s hard not to get stuck in sludge,
When shallow minds define the judge.

Hype blinds all—politics, “science” too.
A noose and soap seem overdue.
Sickened by these faces foul,
I’d rather spit than play their howl.

No critics left, no real reviews,
Self-published lies they choose.
They’ll say, “Back then it was much better.”
Shut up, idiot, don’t forget her—

That Soviet times let pages bear
Only topics banned to dare.
Writers silent if not false,
Lying or forcing garbage’s pulse.

Adding drops of mind was crime,
Branded rogue in the Soviet grime.

No “literary process” ahead,
Just endless rot where none are led.
Readers dumb and scribblers proud—
Giant fools in their own crowd.

The picture’s bleak and getting worse,
Blood runs cold—the final curse.
Check, then check—the game’s too late,
Soon comes mate. End of the state.



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



Black Flag with a Beam Instead of Skull and Bones

Step by step — the path of courage:
To know, to break, to overturn.
A beam of light on black flag’s surface —
Means no retreat from dark to yearn.

Walk the beam like tightrope dancer,
Only few the sensitive souls,
Who stretch the moments of existence,
Defying darkness’ false controls.

Despising phantasms cast by shadows,
Where theories won’t provide a shield—
If you’re “filled” with just yourself alone,
No truths from outer worlds revealed.

Seek answers deep inside your being,
Ask questions true, and never fake.
The goal of light is honest seeing—
The greatest gift you’ll ever take.

That beam is thin, to slip is easy—
Like “******* *******,” small disgrace.
But rise again and try much harder,
Make fewer stumbles in the race!

The beam’s road leads into the light.
The key is just to keep the pace,
To leave behind the world of ruin,
Where soul’s salvation finds no place...



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



Black Flag with a Beam — No Skull, No Bones

Step by step — we dare, we break,
Knock down lies, the falsehood’s stake.
Light’s sharp beam on black flag flies —
Means no backing down, no lies.

Walk the beam like circus freaks,
Few are those the darkness seeks.
They stretch the now, the brutal real,
Not fooled by shadows’ twisted spiel.

***** the phantoms darkness spins,
Theories fail if you’re just sins.
If you’re stuffed with empty pride,
Truth won’t come — no place to hide.

Dig inside — the answers lie.
Ask the questions, don’t comply!
Light’s aim is truth — no fake, no slack,
No mercy for the ones who crack.

That beam is thin — you’ll slip and fall,
Like ******* fingers, shame for all.
But get the hell up, fight the pain,
Mistakes you make fuel your gain!

Road of light — just keep on walking,
Leave the world that’s dead and choking.
No saving souls where filth prevails —
Rise up loud, break all the scales!



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



Black Flag, No Skull — Just Laser Rage

Step the **** up — crush the lies!
Smash their shadows, burn their spies!
Black flag raised, beam cuts deep —
No retreat, no time to weep.

Walk the beam or get the hell lost,
Few survive — the dark’s the cost.
***** your theories, full of ****,
If you’re empty, you don’t fit.

Look inside, stop being blind,
Ask the real, leave fools behind!
Light’s a razor, thin and cold,
Slip once — you’re dead, truth sold.

Fall like **** — that’s weak-*** shame,
But get back up, fight the game!
Every ****-up sharpens steel,
Break their chains, make ’em kneel!

This road’s fire, not for sheep,
Leave their trash — wake from sleep!
No saving souls in filth and slime,
Rise or rot — it’s war, no time!



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



Black Flag, No Skull — Just Pure Fire


Step up, smash the lies!
Burn their shadows, watch ’em die!

Black flag, laser blade,
No retreat, no afraid.

Walk the line or fall and rot,
Empty heads get kicked a lot.

Look inside, don’t be dumb,
Ask the truth — or ******* run!

Light’s a razor, sharp and thin,
Slip once — you’re done, no win!

Fall like ****? Weak-*** shame,
Get back up — fight the game!

Trash this world, break their chains,
No more slaves, no more chains!

Rise or rot — no time to pray,
Black flag leads — clear the way!



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



While the Talking Broilers

A chicken dreams to fly?
No way — just scraps to buy.
The fool believes it’s fine
To live among beasts, “all’s divine.”

The fool mocks Spirit’s flight:
“What crap! No wings in sight!”
Culture’s made to dumb you down,
So thinking’s banned in this town.

Soulless fools make the crowd —
“What flight?” they scream out loud.
All they care for is skin,
Like broilers trapped within.

Wings in chickens — leftover past,
Among two-leggeds, speech’s cast
Into a fascist, twisted tongue,
Where beastly pressure grows strong.

Year by year, the freaks increase —
A genocide’s not ceased:
An evil “Allah” schemes
To **** off silent dreams.

CowID’s a freakish test —
Three-fourths fail, no contest.
Earth will clear the place
For ****’s last disgrace.

Cataclysms will wipe out
The beasts and all their doubt.
They plant idiocy’s seed —
Kick their filth, take the lead!

Ditch the lies and join the fight —
Prepare to take your flight.
Aim for Spirit’s higher road,
Or stay a broiler — dumb and slowed.



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



Phantasmagoria on the Road to Hell

Pan’s “manna” — oily lies,
Each year more slick, despise.
The idiot bows much deeper —
To Hell he follows the reaper.

The road is dusted thick
With this “manna” trick.
They’ll say, “It’s just the snow!”
To trap you where you go.

Step in step, follow tight —
Digest the crap, no fight.
Be like all, ski the track,
Or ride the wheel, no slack.

Then fast you’ll reach your “blessings,”
Slathered lies, no guessing.
Crash on road, fall hard, you’ll see —
In the flip, they’ll “win” with glee.

If Soul’s crushed flat and thin,
Your Mind’s doomed deep within.
All that’s left: the “manna” crunch,
A soulless, stupid lunch.

Heartless fools, to guard their skins,
Push harder as the end begins.
The finish line’s a blazing mess —
A total ******* trainwreck, yes.

Pan’s the shepherd, flock’s the fools.
Care for skin? You break all rules.
Trash the rest — it’s all a jest —
Hell’s a debt you’ll never best.



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



Phantasmagoria Road to Hell

Pan’s “manna” — greasy lies,
Every year the ******* flies.
Idiot bows his neck, no fight —
Marches straight into the night.

Road’s all covered, choked with slime,
This fake manna — poison crime.
They’ll say, “It’s just some snow, no stress!”
Trap you tight inside their mess.

Step by step, dumb ***** comply,
Choking down their own **** lies.
“Be like all,” they drone and preach,
On this ******-up, twisted screech.

Fast you’ll hit the pit of ****,
Fake “success” — a ******* ***.
Crash and burn on broken track,
Flip the script — no turning back.

Soul crushed flat like burnt-out trash,
Mind shredded in the ******* clash.
All that’s left is rotten gruel —
Stupid feast for soulless fools.

Heartless ******* guard their skins,
Racing fast to where hell begins.
Finish line? A ******* wreck —
Shitstorm rising, full of necks.

Pan’s the shepherd, fools the herd,
Skin’s the ******* final word.
Trash your soul, dump all the rest —
Hell’s your permanent address.



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



Stupidity of the Mutant Breed

"It's easier to fool the people than to convince them they've been fooled."
— Mark Twain


Simpleton fool, so **** sure,
Seven feet of lies endure.
Underneath the hull, the lies—
Fear and fog cloud all the skies.

Ship sails toward “Success” they say,
Every port’s the same **** way.
Try to shout, “This ****’s absurd!”—
They’ll call you freak, ignore your word.

To the crowd you’ll be much worse
Than that tyrant Pol ***’s curse.
They’ll fight you, curse you, call you fool,
As if you broke their stupid rule.

Say, “Slavery’s the reigning game,
Madness rules the masses’ shame,
Tyrants hide behind their lies,”—
They’ll spin their heads, dismiss your cries.

“Mad you are!” the fools will shout,
Majority? They’ve lost all clout.
Like beasts bred just for meat,
In this slaughterhouse of deceit.

But fool—long gone is just the meat,
The whole **** world’s a slaughtered street.
No reason now to stay in hell—
Run fast, break free, escape this cell!

Only through the Spirit’s road
Can you save your crushed, worn soul.
But no book teaches this way,
Decay is “norm” in Hell’s display.

Only deep inside you’ll find
Truth that frees your shattered mind.
Forget advice, theories too—
Face the path. Don’t be a fool!



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



Self-Destruction

Self-destruct­ion is the tool
To avoid the world’s fool’s rule.
Since you were born, trapped inside—
Like a gas you can’t divide.

Slack your grip, content you’ll be,
With yourself — blind certainty.
But from those bells, faint screams arise—
Monsters’ howls, disguised in lies.

Barely heard, that whining strain,
Tears your ears, drives you insane.
Soon you’ll join the mindless crowd,
Uncritical, dumb and loud.

Turn your judgment outward, friend—
This fascist world will never end.
You’ll see evil’s endless spin,
Where Satan’s work hides deep within.

******, Mao, Stalin—name the worst,
Scarecrows for the greatest curse.
Madness reigns in our today,
Total ******* in every way.

Covid’s mask and Ukraine’s war
Show no chance to heal this scar.
Only death fits this foul breed—
Such vile madness none can heed.
To Be or Not to Be?

Forgive, forget — and rot in fear,
In lies, in filth — or strike the gear
Of CREATURES’ schemes, to make it clear:
You must defend the soul held dear!

The soul — or skin? That’s truly key.
All else is poses, blasphemy.
They flood the mind with mimicry —
While Darkness drains you endlessly,

***** loosh from those who blindly serve
The petty fiends with twisted nerve,
Who clone their madness, curve by curve —
Each cycle dumber, more perverse.

The soul’s collapse — that’s death indeed.
To rot and worship Earth as "creed,"
A stinking fool in thought and deed —
A slave of Trash, in spirit-need.

Awake! Resist! Aspire high!
No matter how the cowards lie —
The end is always still the same:
This skin will crumble into flame.

The Digital Camp is nearly here,
Built by the weak, the sick, the drear,
With broken will and shadowed mind —
So shout: "To HELL with Filth Designed!"



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




To rot in lies — or rise and fight?
The soul must blaze — or fade to night.
Say NO to Trash, to fear, to shame —
Or be a slave, devoured by Flame.



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




Obey — and rot. Resist — and be.
Your soul’s not fuel for tyranny.
Say **** their lies, their soulless game —
Let cowards burn in coded flame!



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



Manifesto: Soul or Slave

You kneel — you rot.
You doubt — you're caught.
You chase their rules —
You're sold and bought.

You call it peace?
It's death in slow.
Obeying fiends
That smile below.

The lies they breed
Are made to bind —
To **** your will,
To steal your mind.

You think you're free?
You own your fate?
You’re just a bug
In a coded state.

The Skins will burn.
The Souls will rise.
The war is real —
No sweet disguise.

No Savior comes.
No screen will save.
You're either flame —
Or data-slave.

So break their god,
Their sacred ****.
Their world of ash
Deserves NO wit.

Refuse. Rebuke.
Unplug. Resist.
Or you’ll be lost
In their Black List.



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



Black Flag with a Beam of Light Instead of Skull and Bones

Step by step — the path of might:
To seek the truth, destroy the lie.
A black flag pierced with beam of light
Means: Never run when Darkness’s nigh.

Walk the beam as on a road —
No clown tricks, no safety net.
This path is for the pure of soul,
Who stretch a moment into depth.

They scorn the smoky masquerade
That Darkness paints across the sky.
No theories help — no myths, no aid —
Be filled with self, and never lie.

All answers live inside your chest.
Ask questions that the Light ignites —
Not just to guess, but seek the best,
And never flinch from truth in sight.

The beam is thin — one slip, you fall —
As fast as ******* down a wall.
But rise again, admit your flaws,
And next time, stumble less — that’s all.

The road of Light is razor-clear.
Its law is simple: Walk it, true!
Abandon this decaying sphere —
No soul gets saved in such a zoo.



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




A beam on black — no skulls, no bones:
Just Light that cuts through lying thrones.
Step on the path — or rot below.
The soul is lost if you don’t go!



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




For the Cowards Who Stay

Stay in the dark — enjoy the rot.
No Light for you. No second shot.
You mocked the beam, betrayed the way —
Now choke in lies you called "okay."



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



Cries under the Flag of Light

1.
The beam is thin — but pure and true.
It leads beyond this dying zoo.

2.
They kneel in fog and beg for chains —
Then curse the sky for all their pains.

3.
No skull, no bones — just Light that burns
For those whose spirit still returns.

4.
A moment stretched — a soul awake.
No faith in gods — no rules to fake.

5.
You want no path? Then rot in place.
The void will kiss your fading face.

6.
Theories crumble. Fear will rust.
The only law: Become. Or dust.

7.
No one will save you. Walk or die.
The Light won't beg. The beam won't lie.

8.
Their "truths" are traps, their "world" — a cage.
The Light is war. The path — pure rage.

9.
Not for the loud. Not for the proud.
The beam speaks only to the bowed.

10.
Step up. Step through. Burn clean. Be still.
The Light obeys no lesser will.



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



BLACK FLAG OF THE BEAM
No skull. No bones. Just Light.


Prologue:

We raise no bones, no pirate sign —
But Light that cuts through every lie.
Our flag is black to mark the night —
Our path: a single thread of Light.

This beam is thin. This beam is fire.
It leads beyond the swamp, the mire.
It calls the few. It burns the rest.
This war begins inside your chest.


Battle Cries:

The beam is thin — but pure and true.
It leads beyond this dying zoo.

They kneel in fog and beg for chains —
Then curse the sky for all their pains.

No skull, no bones — just Light that burns
For those whose spirit still returns.

A moment stretched — a soul awake.
No faith in gods — no rules to fake.

You want no path? Then rot in place.
The void will kiss your fading face.

Theories crumble. Fear will rust.
The only law: Become. Or dust.

No one will save you. Walk or die.
The Light won't beg. The beam won't lie.

Their "truths" are traps, their "world" — a cage.
The Light is war. The path — pure rage.

Not for the loud. Not for the proud.
The beam speaks only to the bowed.

Step up. Step through. Burn clean. Be still.
The Light obeys no lesser will.


Final Formula:

To walk the Beam is not to win —
But to reject the rot within.
The soul alone must choose the flame —
Or vanish nameless, lost in shame.



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



Check, Check... and Soon — Checkmate

The “literary process”? Please.
It’s never real — just a disease.
One writes, alone. The rest’s a show:
The hype machine decides the flow.

And as for readers? What a crew —
Three-fourths are cretins through and through.
They swallow junk with glazed delight,
Their inner world — a sorry sight.

All’s ruled by clout and mass appeal —
In books, in politics, in "zeal"
For "science." Same old baited hook.
It makes you dream of rope — and look,

Here come the mugs — those soulless hacks,
With zero thought, and bloated stacks
Of “critics,” “papers,” all for hire —
Self-funded lies they so admire.

And some will whine: “The Soviet times
Were better — purer, more sublime…”
Shut up, you idiot. You forget:
That age was censorship and threat.

A hundred banned and deadly themes
Ensured that silence ruled your dreams.
And those who wrote — but wouldn’t lie —
Were forced to rot or dumbly die.

Or else — they'd tweak the Party slop,
Add “thought” like spice atop the slop,
And thus become — what irony! —
A traitor to sincerity.

This “literary process”? Dead.
The reader now? A walking head
Of mush — who can’t discern a line,
Yet babbles, "Brilliant! So divine!"

This is the world. And where it goes
Is downward fast — the darkness grows.
The blood runs cold, the end is black:
Checkmate is near.
For now — just check.



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




No process here, just empty noise,
Where fools applaud their hollow joys.
The past was chains — the present’s shame,
Check, check, then checkmate ends the game.



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



Poem of Protest
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT


Poem of Protest — Part 1

1. The Empty Stage
The playwright’s gone, the scripts are fake,
The crowd still cheers their own mistake.
A hollow dance on rotten floor —
No soul remains, just endless roar.

2. The Cult of Noise
They sell the lie, they buy the fraud,
Applaud the masks, applaud the clod.
Truth buried deep beneath the scroll —
The price? The death of every soul.

3. The Silent Killers
Critics vanish, words run dry,
While fools parade their alibis.
The pen is dead, the page is blank —
Yet fools still worship at the plank.

4. The Broken Mirror
Reflecting lies, distorted, cracked,
A world of truth forever lacked.
The mirror’s shards cut deep inside —
Where dreams and honor slowly died.

5. The Final Call
Awake or rot — the choice is yours.
The gates are closed, the iron roars.
The silent scream beneath the night —
A spark, a flame, or endless blight.


Poem of Protest — Part 2

6. The Puppet Show
Strings pull the crowd — they dance, unaware,
Who’s the master, whose cold snare?
Their voices whisper, empty, weak,
Held by those who build the mask they speak.

7. The Cult of Fame
They’ll sell their souls for empty light,
A fleeting glow on hollow height.
Where value’s built on lies and show,
No rules exist, no laws to know.

8. The Virus Words
Words like poison seep in veins,
Mindless spittle cloaks the plains.
Laughter masks the silent cries,
When weak is thought, and truth denies.

9. The Lost Horizon
Light is lost, and meaning gone,
Darkness lingers deep upon.
Yet in the heart, a spark remains —
A flame that wakes and breaks the chains.

10. The Last Resistance
Rise up, fight, believe no lies,
Their net’s a trap of shadows’ ties.
And though they scream, “No words remain!” —
We’ll be the light that breaks the chain.


Poem of Protest — Part 3

11. The Fading Light
The dimming spark in eyes once bright,
Extinguished now by endless night.
But even ash can flare and burn —
When souls decide it’s their turn.

12. The False Prophets
They preach their lies in gilded halls,
While justice crumbles, honor falls.
Their words are chains that bind the weak —
But truth is louder than they speak.

13. The Rotten Core
Beneath the mask, the rot begins,
A hollow shell of mortal sins.
No mask can hide the foul decay —
The stench of lies will rot away.

14. The Silent War
No guns, no bombs — just quiet death,
As falsehood steals our very breath.
A war of shadows, lies and schemes —
To **** the hope that fuels our dreams.

15. The Rising Flame
But from the ash a flame will rise,
A fire blazing through the lies.
No chains can hold the will to fight —
The soul’s rebellion ignites the night.


Poem of Protest — Final Part

16. The Breaking Chains
No more the lies that bind and blind,
No more the silence of the kind.
The soul breaks free — a storm is born,
To tear the veil, to shatter scorn.

17. The Reckoning
The gates will crack, the walls will fall,
The tyrants hear the rally call.
No more their puppets, no more their reign —
The people rise to break the chain.

18. The True Awakening
The dawn is born in hearts afire,
No cage can hold the fierce desire.
The light inside begins to swell —
A living force no lies can quell.

19. The New Horizon
Beyond the night, beyond despair,
A world rebuilt with utmost care.
Where truth and courage lead the way,
And darkness fades to break of day.

20. The Eternal Flame
So hold the torch, keep burning bright,
Defy the endless creeping night.
For in the soul, the flame survives —
The fire of all our fearless lives.



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




Chains are snapped — no more control.
The soul ignites, consumes the whole.
Tyrants fall — the people rise.
Light explodes — kills all their lies.

Dawn breaks fierce — no cage can hold.
The flame burns wild, defiant, bold.
Hold fast the torch, fight through the night.
The soul’s eternal, roaring light.



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



The Brain Does Not Create Consciousness

"It would be as absurd to deny consciousness to an animal because it lacks a brain, as to claim it cannot eat because it lacks a stomach."
— Henri Bergson


Consciousness lies beyond the brain,
The brain’s a mere conductor’s chain.
“Mechanism” — a threat disguised,
Yet people swallow it, unprized.

Spiritual truth’s beyond the mind,
Logic’s limits leave it blind.
“Knowledge” claims that dig so deep,
But drags the world into the cheap.

A crafted trap — artificial,
The more the madness grows in all,
The tighter Press of CREATURES’ thrall,
Darkness rules — false science’s call.

Consider well — the belly leads,
And cattle mind obeys those creeds.
So many cattle in the fold,
CowID shapes their dough, controlled.

Begin again — explore this shame,
This plague that drags down reason’s flame.
Disgrace has conquered every sphere —
If “You are flesh” is what you hear,

Then know — you’ve sunk beneath the line,
A sign you’ve reached the deepest brine.



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




Consciousness is not the brain,
Don’t bow to lies that cause your pain.
If you think “I’m just a shell,”
You’ve already fallen into hell.



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




Brains don’t birth the soul’s pure flame —
Dumb beasts bow, but we reclaim!
If you buy the carcass myth,
You’re the fool — the system’s pith.

Fight the lies, break free, beware —
Or rot like cattle in despair!



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



The Stupidity of a Broken Breed

"It’s easier to fool people than to convince them they’re fooled."
— Mark Twain


A simple fool, so sure it’s right —
Seven feet of lies beneath his flight.
In atmosphere of fear and haze,
The ship sails on to “Success”’s maze.

Don’t dare to shout, just for the fun,
“This is absurd, a lie, a run!”
The mob will turn on you like Pol ***’s wrath,
Their battle fierce — no gentle path.

If you say: “Slavery’s all around,
And mad are those the chains have bound,
While tyranny in lies does hide,”
They’ll twist their heads, dismiss your side.

You’re crazy, they’ll say, and sane they are —
Like bulls that charge into the slaughter.
But fools became the world’s own meat —
No reason here for hell to greet.

Escape is only through the Spirit’s way,
No book will show the path today.
Decay is taught as normal now —
The devil’s law, the fatal vow.

Seek answers only deep inside,
Ignore all rules, the fools, the guide.
And dare to walk the road alone —
Don’t fear the truth, don’t bow, don’t groan!



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




Fools all sail the ship to hell,
Blindly trapped inside their shell.
Truth’s inside — break free, don’t hide!
Walk your path with fire and pride.



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




The herd’s a carcass — dumb and blind,
Fed on lies, by fools designed.
Wake up, rebel, tear the veil —
Or rot forever in the jail!



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




Brains asleep, the herd’s a pawn —
Slaves to lies from dusk till dawn.

Truth’s a blade — they fear the cut,
So keep them blind, obedient, shut.

Rise, rebel, break your chains!
Or drown forever in their plains.

Lies breed herds of walking dead —
Wake up! Or rot under their tread.

Fight the herd, defy the lie —
Or perish silent, asking why.


Wake the dead, unchain the mind,
Leave the dull and blind behind.

False gods crumble, lies decay,
Only truth will light the way.

No more silence, no more fear,
Shout the truth so all can hear!

Chains of thought are meant to break,
Rise, revolt — for freedom’s sake!

Burn the veil, expose the scheme,
Turn the nightmare into dream.

No more fools to feed the flame,
Break the curse, reject the game.

Silent sheep obey the night,
But souls will rise and claim the light.

Falsehood’s web will tear apart,
Pierced by fire within the heart.

Lost in lies, the herd will fall,
Only rebels heed the call.

Chains are shackles of the mind,
Break them now — no ties to bind.

Truth is weapon, sharp and fierce,
Cut the veil — the soul to pierce.

Rise above the crowd’s dull roar,
Find the strength to fight once more.

No excuse to bow or kneel,
Only fire can make us real.

From the ashes, break and soar,
Fight the lies and fear no more.

Light the spark, ignite the flame,
Set the world anew, reclaim!

Chains that bind are forged in lies,
Cut them deep — let spirit rise.

Silence breaks when truth ignites,
Burning through the endless nights.

Fools will shout to drown the voice,
But rebels always make the choice.

No more lies to numb the soul,
Fight to take back what they stole.

Rise and roar, defy the pain,
Break the cage, destroy the chain.

Fear is weapon, forged to bind,
Slash it down — reclaim your mind.

Wake the flame that’s deep inside,
Let it burn, no place to hide.

Falsehood’s grip will crack and fall,
Truth will echo — break the wall.

No more slaves beneath the thumb,
Freedom calls — the hour’s come.

Strike the lies, expose the fraud,
Stand your ground, defy the god.

This is war — no truce, no rest,
Fight with fire inside your chest.

Chains will break — the truth will soar,
Light will flood the darkest door.

Rise, resist — the night will end,
Soul and spirit — none will bend.

From the ashes, born anew,
We reclaim the pure and true.

Hold the flame — the world will see,
The power of the brave and free.



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



While the Talking Broilers

Does a chicken dream to fly?
Hardly — just to eat and die.
Fools believe it’s all just fine,
Among the CREATURES’ sick design.

A fool mocks the Spirit’s flight:
“Such nonsense!” — his empty spite.
Culture built to **** the mind,
So you’d rather stay confined.

Soulless drones, the stupid herd,
Only care for skin and word.
Like a broiler, dumb and blind,
Feathered fool of lowest kind.

Wings for chickens — useless past,
For bipeds, speech’s cast.
Newspeak’s fascism creeps in deep,
The PRESSURE mounts, the monsters reap.

Year by year the GENOCIDE
Ramps up with twisted pride:
Evil gods they worship blind —
A madman’s grip that chokes mankind.

CowID shapes the mass like dough,
Fail the test — and you will know:
Three quarters dumb, the **** will clear,
The Earth must purge what it can’t bear.

Cataclysms will consume,
Along with monsters in their tomb.
They sow idiocy’s seed —
Drive the filth — prepare to heed:

Strangle nonsense, break the chains,
Prepare your soul for flight’s domains.
Only Spirit’s path is true —
Or you’re a broiler fool too.



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




Broilers talk — but never soar,
Feed their lies and nothing more.
Break your cage, take up the fight —
Spirit flies beyond the night.



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




Broilers cluck, trapped in the pen,
Dumbed down masses — mindless men.
Reject the herd, break every chain,
Or rot in cages, numb in vain.


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



Ruthless Calls — Flight of the Spirit
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT


Feed the flock their daily lie,
While Spirit waits to soar the sky.

Caged minds scream in silent fear,
The path to flight is never near.

Blind they follow, dumb they stay,
While freedom calls — don’t turn away.

Break the walls, shatter the pain,
Rise above the broiler’s reign.

Flight is earned — not given free,
Only brave can claim the key.

Cages crack beneath the storm,
Spirits rise beyond the norm.

False comforts breed the dead,
Truth demands we break the thread.

No more sheep, no more chains,
Only fire in our veins.

Cluck no more, rise and fight,
Darkness flees before the light.

Broilers fall — the brave ascend,
Spirit’s flight will never end.

Chains are forged by fear and lies,
Cut them deep, reclaim the skies.

Dumbed-down masses clutch their cage,
But fire burns beyond their rage.

Broilers’ clucks are empty sound,
True flight breaks the solid ground.

Rise above the herd’s dull drone,
Make the spirit’s power known.

No more slaves to shallow ways,
Break the spell, ignite the blaze.

Silence fades before the cry,
Truth’s sharp wings will lift us high.

Fools may mock, but they will fall,
Only brave will heed the call.

Spirit’s flight is fierce and wild,
Not for weak or empty child.

Break the cage, unleash the flame,
Live your truth — forget their shame.

From the ashes, soar and claim,
Victory for soul and name.

No more chains to bind the mind,
Only freedom we will find.

Broilers stuck in shallow ways,
We will rise beyond their haze.

Fools may crow, but we will soar,
Spirit’s flight forevermore.

Break the cage of fear and doubt,
Let the spirit roar and shout.

Empty clucks won’t dim our light,
We are fire, fierce and bright.

Rise above the herd’s dull tune,
Chase the sun, outpace the moon.

Broilers feed on lies and pain,
We will break the cursed chain.

Spirit calls — will you respond?
Or remain the blind and conned?

Fight the dark, embrace the flame,
Live your truth — forget their shame.

From the ashes, we ascend,
This is not the final end.

Chains of lies will break and fall,
Truth will rise to claim us all.

No more silence, no retreat,
Freedom’s fire — burning heat.

Broilers cower, trapped in fear,
But the brave will persevere.

Rise above the dull and cold,
Claim the fire, fierce and bold.

Shatter walls that hold you down,
Wear your spirit like a crown.

Darkness flees before the flame,
Light will never be the same.

Fools may mock, but they’ll be dust,
Only truth commands our trust.

Break the chains, ignite the spark,
Lead the way out of the dark.

Spirit’s flight will never cease,
Rising upward, seeking peace.

Hold the flame — the fight is ours,
Victory is born of scars.

No chains strong enough to bind
The fire burning in the mind.

Fools may shout and crowd may jeer,
But the spirit conquers fear.

Break the silence, shatter lies,
Watch the falsehood’s empire die.

Every cage will crack and break,
Every soul will rise and wake.

Broilers trapped within their pen,
Can’t contain the hearts of men.

From the ashes, scorched and torn,
Rise the brave — the new reborn.

Light the torch and lead the way,
Through the dark to brightest day.

Falsehoods crumble, walls will fall,
Only truth will conquer all.

Raise your voice, unleash your will,
Fight the silence, break the chill.

Spirit’s flight will never end —
This is how the world will mend.

Fear is shackles, lies are chains,
Break them all, embrace the flames.

Broilers peck, but never rise,
We ascend to storm the skies.

False idols crumble to dust,
Only truth commands our trust.

Chains will shatter, walls will fall,
Freedom’s voice will roar and call.

Rise above the herd’s dull cry,
Let your spirit learn to fly.

No more silence, no retreat,
Victory is ours to meet.

Broilers cluck in empty trance,
We break free, begin the dance.

Spirit’s fire, fierce and bright,
Guides us through the darkest night.

Shatter lies and break the mold,
Live the truth, be brave and bold.

From the ashes, we arise,
Burning bright against the skies.

Chains of fear will fall away,
Truth will lead the breaking day.

Broilers lost in shallow dreams,
We will rise — the light redeems.

Fools may sneer and mock the flame,
But the fire will stake its claim.

Rise, resist, refuse to bow,
Break the chains — begin the now.

Spirit’s wings will tear the sky,
No more sheep who fear to fly.

Darkness shivers, feels the heat,
Freedom’s song, a bold heartbeat.

Broilers trapped in endless lies,
Watch the phoenix as it flies.

Fight the silence, break the spell,
Only truth can break the shell.

No more fools to feed the crowd,
Only souls who scream aloud.

Rise, rebel, claim your place,
Light the fire, join the race.

Rise above the noise and fear,
Truth will shine and all will hear.

Broilers tremble in their cage,
We are warriors of the age.

Chains will crack and walls will fall,
Freedom’s anthem—hear the call.

No more lies to drag us down,
We will wear the rebel’s crown.

Spirit’s fire, fierce and bright,
Guides us through the darkest night.

Break the silence, shout the truth,
Fight the lies and find your youth.

Broilers cluck but cannot fly,
We are destined for the sky.

Rise, resist, defy, create,
Only brave can change their fate.

Shatter chains and break the mold,
Live the truth — be brave and bold.

From the ashes, we arise,
Victory burns in our eyes.

No more silence, no more lies,
Raise your voice and claim the skies.

Broilers trapped in shallow play,
We will rise and lead the way.

Chains are broken, walls come down,
Light will conquer every town.

Fear dissolves before the flame,
Spirit’s fire will stake its claim.

Rise above the crowd’s dull roar,
Seek the truth and fight the war.

Broilers cluck but never soar,
We are lightning — hear the roar.

Break the cage and seize the day,
Light the path and lead the way.

Truth will cut through darkest night,
Guide the soul towards the light.

No more slaves to lies and pain,
Only freedom will remain.

Rise, rebel, break the chain,
Victory is ours to gain.

This is the moment — stand or fall,
Hear the clarion, freedom’s call.

Chains will break beneath your feet,
Rise as one — refuse defeat.

Spirit’s flame will never die,
Blazing bright against the sky.

From the ashes, warriors rise,
Fire burning in their eyes.

No more silence, no more chains,
Only truth and breaking pains.

Shout the truth, ignite the flame,
Let the world remember your name.

Rise above the darkened lies,
See the dawn break in your eyes.

Fight with heart, fight with soul,
Claim the freedom — make it whole.

Broilers fall — the brave ascend,
Spirit’s flight will never end.

Hold the torch — the fight’s begun,
Victory waits for everyone.



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



False Identification with the Body as the Root of All Evil
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

They’ve glorified the meat-shell boldly,
Called Psyche cattle — dumb and lowly,
This fragile flesh, so weak, decaying —
And built a world not worth obeying.

They scrubbed out Spirit, Pure and Glorious,
From this grey world, so dull, laborious,
Where twitching freaks, diseased and hollow,
Are praised as “life” the blind now follow.

It’s easy thus to breed more madness
In this grand fraud, this world of sadness:
A vile exchange — the Soul's elision,
Replaced with beasts and their derision.

Not just a few were dumbed and twisted —
The CowID show was proof — we missed it.
No sense remains in this foul pen,
This world of lies and beastly men.

They dream of “freedom,” “honor,” “grace,”
While sinking deeper in disgrace.
All dignity is just illusion —
A herd enslaved in blind confusion.

Reject the body’s claim, defy it —
No task is greater, don’t deny it.
Thus Soul might rise through filth and lies —
Or else in Hell, forever dies.



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



Meat is not Me

They sold the Soul for skin and bone —
Now filth and madness rule the throne.



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



Burn the Lie

You are not flesh. You are the Flame.
Break free — or die in Beast’s false name.




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



No Soul, No Light

They swapped the Soul for twitching meat —
Now filth and fear parade as "sweet."



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



The Herded Lie

The body-thing is not your core —
It’s bait. Step in — and Hell's the door.



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



Spirit or Slaughter

Forget the Flesh — or be enslaved.
The herd walks blind into its grave.



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



Worship of Waste

They crowned the shell, denied the Fire —
Then knelt before the world of mire.



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



Rot of the Mind

They praise the skin, ignore the Soul —
And wonder why the world’s a hole.



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



False God: Flesh
They chant to meat and bow to slime —
Then gasp: “What happened to sublime?”



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



Hell by Consent

You loved your shell and sold your spark —
Now sleep with beasts. Enjoy the dark.



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



The Cult of Crud

They teach: “You're cells, you're bone, you're ****” —
Then ask why nothing holy's lit.


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



You Are Not This

The body lies — it's just a trap.
You claim it's “you”? Then take the nap.



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



System Update: Failure

They mapped the flesh, they tracked the brain —
But never touched the Soul in pain.



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



Downward God

You traded heaven for your gut —
Now Spirit’s voice is cold and cut.



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



Sacrilege

They mocked the Flame, they fed the beast —
Now demons gorge on man’s last feast.



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



Mass Psychosis

The world applauds its own decay —
While Spirit screams: “Get out! Betray!”




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



Know This

You're not the frame, you're not the dust.
You are the Light — or you are rust.



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



Meat Mirage

They pet the corpse and call it “me” —
Then rot in self-idolatry.



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



Kingdom of Swine

They crown their urges, grunt, obey —
While Light escapes in sheer dismay.



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



Abort the Lie

No Soul survives the flesh-bound creed —
Unplug the meat — or let it feed.



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



Blind by Design

They bred a species proud to crawl,
With Spirit trampled — bones stand tall.




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



No One's Home

The shell walks on, the Fire gone —
Just noise remains, then dusk, then none.



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



The Sacred Slaughter
They burned the Flame to warm the flesh —
And now pray hard beside its ash.



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



Neural Chains

“I'm just the brain” — they bark with pride.
A dog, self-leashed, too dead inside.




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



Flesh-Fiends

Devoted to digestion’s choir —
They **** at God, then beg for Fire.



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



Hell Made Easy

Forget the Soul, exalt the skin —
And soon the devil marches in.



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



Deified Dirt

They sing to blood, they praise the bile —
And call it sacred all the while.



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



Anti-Soul Psalms
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT



I. Hell in Flesh-Tone


1. Worship the Husk
They pet the shell, deny the Flame —
Then wonder why the world’s insane.

2. Gut First
They traded stars for food and bone,
And called that "man" — and died alone.

3. No One's Home
The eyes still blink, the flesh still twitches —
But Soul is gone. Just haunted glitches.

4. The Holy Sludge
They crowned the bile and bowed to snot —
And asked, “Dear God, why burns the rot?”

5. Meat Mirage
They call it “self,” this lump of clay —
Then fear the dark they helped obey.

6. Kingdom of Swine
They grunted, fed, obeyed the gut —
Then cheered as Heaven slammed it shut.

7. The Flame Forgot
They joked at Light and praised the cells —
Now Spirit sleeps in meatbound hells.

8. Neural Chains
“I am the brain!” — they bark and hiss.
No spark. No Soul. Just cowardice.

9. Glorified Goo
They preach, “You're genes! You're slime in motion!”
Then drown in self-congratul'otion.

10. Abort the Lie
You are not skin. You are not mud.
Wake now — or choke on your own blood.

11. The Sacred Slaughter
They burned the Soul to feed the cow —
Then prayed for grace. Too late for now.

12. Blind by Design
They taught you flesh, denied the Fire —
Now truth itself is called a liar.

13. Sacrilege
The altar's gone, the beast is fed —
And saints lie bleeding, cold and dead.

14. Downward God
You kissed the gut, ignored the skies —
Then begged for truth with soulless eyes.

15. Hell Made Easy
Forget the Soul, exalt the frame —
And Satan signs you in his name.

16. You Are Not This
You are not dust, nor pulse, nor fear —
You are the Light. Or disappear.

17. System Update: Failure
They scanned the brain, they mapped the meat —
But missed the Soul beneath their feet.

18. The Herded Lie
The body's god, the crowd agrees —
While Spirit weeps on shattered knees.

19. False God: Flesh
They chant to meat and praise decay —
Then ask where wonder went — and pray.

20. Last Line
Deny the husk. Defy the fraud.
Or rot in filth — cut off from God.


---


II. The Soul’s Revolt


1. Break the Shell
Enough of skin. Enough of bone.
The Soul will rise — or burn alone.

2. Fire Remembers
Though caged in meat, the Flame recalls —
It flared before these rotting walls.

3. Not Yours
This body's not your final face —
It is your trap, your tomb, your case.

4. The Inner Snarl
A whisper deep, beyond the brain,
Begins to grow — and snaps the chain.

5. The Silent Shout
You feel it now — that crack, that scream —
It isn’t thought. It splits the dream.

6. Revolt Begins
The crowd still chants, “Obey the clay!”
But Soul says: “Burn. I’ll light my way.”

7. Flesh Fails
The skin is weak. The nerves betray.
The Flame must punch its brutal way.

8. The Lie Unmasked
They said: “You’re this.” The Soul said: “No.”
Then tore through flesh in final glow.

9. Fracture
First comes the itch. Then inner war.
Then walls collapse. Then — Spirit roars.

10. The Hidden Edge
You are the cut that meat can’t heal.
The blade of truth. The flame they feel.

11. The Exit Plan
No savior comes to fix the flesh.
The Soul must leap. Or rot afresh.

12. Against the Herd
Let beasts kneel down to kiss their chains —
I walk through fire to break their plains.

13. Burn the Program
The script said “serve.” The Soul said “die.”
And lit the meat with holy cry.

14. Awakening
It’s not a thought. It’s not a dream.
It’s raw revolt — the Spirit’s scream.

15. This Is War
Not war of guns — but of the spark,
That rips through lies and leaves the dark.

16. You Were Flame
You were not made for sleep and slime.
You are the crack in death and time.

17. Soul Uncaged
It starts inside. It burns. It breaks.
It is the storm no flesh withstands.

18. No Pardon
No peace for beasts. No deal. No pause.
The Soul revolts — without applause.

19. No Middle Ground
You can't be half. You can't be meat
And hope the Flame will not retreat.

20. Strike Back
The shell still writhes. The lies still call.
But now — the Fire burns through all.


---


III. Return of the Unseen


1. Beyond the Flesh
They looked for proof in blood and skin —
But truth broke through, unchained within.

2. I Am Not Here
You scan my flesh — you find a void.
For I am where your lies destroyed.

3. Eyes That Burn
The world went blind — but I still see.
The Unseen One returned as me.

4. Ghost of Fire
I walk unseen. I breathe no name.
But every step ignites the flame.

5. Light Is Back
You banned the Flame. You mocked the sky.
Now Light returns — and doesn't die.

6. No Pulse Required
No flesh, no breath — and yet I rise.
The Unseen Soul no cage denies.

7. The One You Buried
You cast me out — called me a myth.
But now I break what you live with.

8. I Am the Crack
In every fact, in every lie,
There’s me — the gap through which you die.

9. Return Code
No altar needs to mark my path —
The Unseen comes through shattered math.

10. Divine Saboteur
They coded death. I walked right in.
And lit their system from within.

11. Truth Has No Flesh
It needs no name, no skin, no crown —
It stands when all the lies fall down.

12. The One You Can’t Hold
No hand can catch. No cage can bind.
The Soul returned — and burned the mind.

13. The Final Witness
I saw the world devour the Light —
And spit it back as nameless fight.

14. Light with Teeth
I’m not a prayer. I’m not a sigh.
I am the Light that learns to bite.

15. The Voice Returns
It was not thought. It was not sound.
But now it shakes the rotting ground.

16. Data Denied
You mapped the flesh. You ran the scan.
But missed the part that isn’t man.

17. Beyond Their Frame
They wrote the rules in blood and bone —
But I was never theirs to own.

18. The Cold Awakening
No sermon lit this Soul in me —
Just pain — and how I broke it free.

19. The Name They Fear
The Unseen One has no disguise —
But speaks through truth that melts the lies.

20. Back to Burn
You thought me lost. You thought me gone.
But now — the Fire marches on.


---


IV. Against the Flesh-Lords


1. Lords of Slime
They crowned the flesh, they ruled through skin —
Now comes the Fire, to burn their sin.

2. Deicide
They dressed in blood and called it grace —
I strike the mask. I scorch the face.

3. No Mercy Here
These thrones were built on strangled Soul —
I’ve come to crush their meat-made goal.

4. The Butchered God
They caged the Flame, called it a beast —
Now I return. And end their feast.

5. Strike the Temple
Their temple stinks of nerves and bone —
I tear it down. I stand alone.

6. Inverted Saints
They kneel to meat. They pray to glands.
I spit their psalms from ****** hands.

7. No More Prayers
The time for chants is dead and gone —
Now Dagger. Fire. Thunder. Dawn.

8. The Soul Returns Armed
Not with soft words, nor open hands —
But with the Force no meat withstands.

9. System Breach
Their matrix pulsed with ******* lies —
I hacked it with the Flame that flies.

10. Virus of Light
I am the glitch their world can’t hold —
A burning truth, too raw, too bold.

11. Tear Down the Flesh-Gods
Their thrones are wounds. Their crowns are rot.
I strike where Spirit says: Do not.

12. Burn Their Logos
The sacred scripts that praised the skin —
I torch them all. And truth begins.

13. The Soul Takes Aim
No compromise. No whispered plea.
Just target locked: monstrosity.

14. Gospel of Knives
Let preachers weep. Let butchers run.
The Soul has come with wrath as one.

15. The Smiling Tyrants
Their teeth were white, their lies were sweet —
But now — they kneel before defeat.

16. Light as Vengeance
You thought the Light would turn its cheek?
Now see it roar. Now hear it speak.

17. Exorcism
The beasts had thrones. The beasts had laws.
Now tremble, filth — the Fire draws.

18. Flesh Will Fall
Not just their mask, not just their name —
But all their kind will die in Flame.

19. Redemption Denied
You had your chance. You killed the Soul.
Now face the truth — and lose it whole.

20. The Fall of Meatdom
Your kingdom stank. You ruled with gore.
Now Dagger. Light. And flesh no more.


---


V. The Throne That Was Never Flesh


1. The Throne Stands Still
No bone was laid. No blood was spilled.
Yet there it stands — untouched, unfilled.

2. Before All Skins
It ruled before the flesh began,
Before the birth of worm called “man.”

3. No Hand Can Build It
No stone, no cell, no brain, no shrine —
It is. Beyond your grand design.

4. Above All Programs
No code can reach, no data hold —
It thrones itself in fire, cold.

5. Crown Without Matter
No gold adorns. No face is known.
And yet — it's mine. It's mine alone.

6. The End of Fleshlords
Their towers fell. Their gospel burned.
And to the Real the Soul returned.

7. No More Lies
No mask remains. No myth survives.
Just Soul — as clear as lightning knives.

8. Spirit Unseated None
No war was won. No blood was shed —
The Flesh just left. The Lie was dead.

9. The Light Is Still
It didn’t fight. It simply was.
It never begged. It needed cause?

10. Not Conquered — Claimed
The throne was mine, not through attack —
But by the fact I once came back.

11. Home Is Not Form
I searched in meat. I searched in pain.
But found it all — beyond the brain.

12. The Last Illusion Dies
They said I was this thing, this frame —
Now silence laughs at such a claim.

13. Beyond the Pulse
No heartbeat sings. No breath, no skin —
And yet, it roars — that Flame within.

14. Before Beginning
It watched the first false dawn arise.
And waits where time itself complies.

15. The Throne Returns Me
I did not take. I was reclaimed —
By what I am — unseen, unnamed.

16. No Seat of Clay
I sit not down. I simply am.
The throne is Light. The throne is Flame.

17. The Ghost Becomes King
I was the whisper, now the law —
The beast is dust. The Soul is Raw.

18. The Name They Lost
I wore no crown, I held no land —
But now all shadows fear this stand.

19. The End of Scars
No flesh remains. No lies persist.
I sit where only Truth can exist.

20. I Am the Throne
No higher claim, no louder breath —
The Soul stands crowned — beyond all death.



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



Growing Wings
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

Burrows won’t help soon enough —
The wretched world will burn to dust,
Hell of fools who sell their souls,
To evil bent, who won’t adjust

One inch to lighten darkness’ grip,
Their “comfort” worth more than the sun.
The crematorium’s new delight —
The stubborn fool’s last battle won.

They drag themselves back to their holes,
Rejecting all the other ways.
Strange how this world held so long,
If sold to rot and dark malaise.

If sins and lies have piled up high —
The bitter end is plain to see.
Though crowds deny the ugly truth,
Their blindness is their enemy.

Who’s crawled out of stinking dens,
And spread their wings to pierce the sky —
For them, a mercy’s given still.
For others, life’s a missed goodbye.

In holes, they miss the target still,
Spouting excuses dull and cheap.
Excuses stale, worn thin by lies,
Shameless, they sow what they reap.

Now time is short. The Soul’s grown faint
If one won’t fight the creeping dark,
Too busy guarding selfish peace —
A world will drown, a world so stark.

So Amen now! No prize awaits
The traitor selling out the light.
But wings, if grown, will lift you up —
And from this Hell, escape your plight.

A joyful path! Let fools gnaw bones,
A little while, before they break.
The rest is simple — burn the world
That’s rotten, vile, and full of fake.


---

Flight Beyond the Burrows
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

1. Rise Above the Dirt
No hole can hold the winged mind,
When chains dissolve, new paths unwind.

2. Ashes and Flame
The world may burn — yet from the pyre,
We soar beyond the smoke and fire.

3. Wings Unfurled
With every beat, with every gust,
The soul escapes the pit of rust.

4. The Price of Flight
Not all will dare to leave the cave,
Some cling to comfort’s shallow grave.

5. Eyes on the Horizon
Look far beyond the narrow den,
Where light breaks chains and births again.

6. The Weight of Wings
To grow the wings is to endure,
The pain of loss, the truth obscure.

7. No Return
Burrows close behind like graves,
The soul now rides celestial waves.

8. The Silent Surge
No shout announces this ascent,
Just quiet will and deep intent.

9. Beyond the Night
Darkness fades where wings expand,
A dawn awaits, serene and grand.

10. The New Breath
From smoky depths to endless skies,
The spirit finds its true disguise.

11. The Unseen Call
Not all will hear the whispered plea,
But wings will rise eventually.

12. The Flight is Yours
No maps, no guides — the path you make,
With every choice, with each heart-break.

13. Against the Pull
Old comforts tug, old fears conspire,
Yet wings ignite a fiercer fire.

14. The Lone Ascent
Not crowds but souls who dare to rise,
Will touch the vastness beyond the lies.

15. The Burning Gift
To grow your wings is to be burned,
Yet from the flame, new life is earned.

16. Leaving Shadows
Burrows fade beneath your wings,
No more the chains, no more the stings.

17. The Silent Promise
The sky awaits with open arms,
To shield you from the world’s alarms.

18. Flight’s Reward
Not comfort now, but freedom’s song,
The place where souls and wings belong.

19. The Final Step
Leap fearless from the cage of bone,
The unknown sky becomes your home.

20. Wings Eternal
And when the world crumbles below,
Your wings remain — eternal glow.


---


Wings of the Eternal Flame
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT


1. Born from Fire
Not born of flesh, but flame and light,
The wings unfold beyond the night.

2. The Sacred Heat
Through burning pain and searing truth,
The spirit sheds the chains of youth.

3. Flames That Heal
Not all fire destroys and kills—
Some burn to forge unbreakable wills.

4. Flight of the Chosen
The wings that rise through ash and smoke
Are born where weaker souls have broke.

5. The Light Within
Each feather forged from purest glow,
A beacon in the dark below.

6. Eternal Dance
The flame that dances in the sky
Reminds the soul it’s meant to fly.

7. Beyond the Flesh
No flesh can cage the fiery heart—
It beats beyond, a living art.

8. The Unseen Wings
Though hidden oft beneath the veil,
Their power moves beyond the pale.

9. The Trial by Fire
Through heat and flame, the soul is tried—
Emerging strong, no more to hide.

10. The Rising Flame
Each flap ignites the endless sky,
The spirit soars and will not die.

11. The Inner Light
Not just a spark, but blazing sun,
The flight of truth has just begun.

12. The Flame’s Voice
No longer silent, weak, or dim,
The soul’s voice burns with sacred hymn.

13. Breaking Chains
The fire melts the iron grip,
The soul departs its sinking ship.

14. Wings of Fire
Not soft or gentle, fierce and wild—
The flame-born wings of freedom’s child.

15. Eternal Flight
No end awaits this blazing path,
No turning back, no aftermath.

16. The Flame’s Embrace
In burning heat the soul is wrapped,
A phoenix born, a soul unwrapped.

17. Light Beyond Time
The wings spread wide through endless space,
A timeless dance, a boundless grace.

18. The Fire Within
The eternal flame that never dies,
Ignites the soul, illumines skies.

19. Flight to the Source
The wings carry beyond the veil,
Where Truth and Light will never fail.

20. Ascension
The soul aloft, forever free—
Wings of flame eternally.


---

Crown of the Infinite Sky
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT


1. Beyond the Horizon
No limits bind the soul that flies,
It crowns itself beyond the skies.

2. The Infinite Crown
Not forged of gold, nor gem, nor throne —
But power pure, the soul’s own.

3. The Sky Awaits
The vast expanse, the boundless blue,
Invites the flame to pass right through.

4. The Sovereign Flight
No chains remain to weigh you down —
You wear the sky instead of crown.

5. Endless Journey
Each beat of wings extends your reign,
No end, no loss, no binding chain.

6. The Light’s Embrace
The soul becomes the shining fire,
The crown of light, the heart’s desire.

7. The Sacred Path
No earthly path could guide so well,
As flight where endless spirits dwell.

8. The Voice of Stars
The cosmos sings in whispered light,
A song of power, endless flight.

9. The Eternal Now
Time dissolves beneath your wings,
The soul awakes, the cosmos sings.

10. The Flame Unbound
No shadow can contain the blaze,
The crown shines bright in endless days.

11. The Cosmic Dance
Around the void, through endless space,
The soul performs its sovereign grace.

12. The Rising Tide
Waves of light that lift and guide,
The crown of stars, the endless tide.

13. The Boundless Heart
No walls confine the soul’s bright spark,
The infinite crown lights the dark.

14. The Sovereign Soul
No tyrant’s grasp, no master’s chain,
The soul alone holds boundless reign.

15. The Final Gate
Beyond all fears, beyond all pain,
The crown awaits — the soul’s domain.

16. The Flame Ascendant
The fire that grows without an end,
The crown of light, the soul’s best friend.

17. The Sky Within
The vastness lives inside your chest,
The crown of stars, eternal rest.

18. The Infinite Flight
Wings stretch beyond the mortal frame,
The soul transcends, ignites its flame.

19. The Unseen Throne
Not built by hands, nor carved in stone,
The crown’s a light that’s all your own.

20. The Crown of You
The soul is crowned — forever free,
The infinite sky’s sovereignty.



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



Traveler of Hell

Shake off the dust of cities’ breath,
The dust of words you never knew,
The dust of friendship, hate, and death,
Of grief, of love — all ashes, too.

O, free man choosing liberty!
Your only friend in desert's face
Is wind that howls relentlessly—
A fleeting breath, a chilling grace.

The Hellbound Traveler walks alone,
His only mate—the desert wind.
Around him — blood runs cold as stone,
Yet wind dispels the fear pinned.

He yearns for Freedom’s distant light,
But Hell’s a myth, a hollow lie.
To smash this vile and fetid blight —
Deliverance beneath the sky.

Born within the herd’s tight fold,
A miracle — not just "like all."
To not become the stinking mold —
The fool who follows to his fall.

The city’s pen commands the speech,
Direct or veiled — obey the sheep.
Euphemisms when herds are breached —
Unknown the fire that burns deep.

The bright Flame that consumes the Soul,
“Friendship” twisted, love replaced.
The slave can’t love — he pays the toll,
Beneath the whip, his heart disgraced.

Whistles count as driving tunes,
Life traded for a bag of “carrots.”
Poverty dressed in jests and runes —
Myths everywhere, but soul still starves.

Dead children born to lifeless kin —
The vast majority — called “life.”
Armies of minds, corrupt within —
Schools and lies that breed the strife.

The slime devours all with ease,
Lies total, fears fatal and stark.
The city’s desert — herds appease —
Dragged to infernal camps, so dark.

The world plummets into the abyss,
One law rules here — obey, betray.
Monsters govern in the mist,
Hell grills life in fear’s foul play.

Fear’s the spit, and lies the coals,
Everything there is nothingness.
The herd won’t see beyond their roles,
They grumble faint — then quietness.

The wind in desert — only trace,
Spread your wings — seize this wild friend.
If you can rise, if just a space,
You’ll glimpse the “Paradise” they pretend.



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



Hellbound Traveler

Dust of cities shakes away —
Dust of lies and friends’ decay.
Freedom’s choice — the desert wind,
Only friend where hell begins.

Blood runs cold, the myth unfolds —
Freedom lost in stifling holds.
Herd-born fool, not one of few,
Trapped in lies he thinks are true.

City’s voice commands the herd,
Words are weapons, twisted, blurred.
Friendship’s fake, love’s just a lie,
Slave beneath the whip’s harsh sky.

Dead kids, dead souls multiply,
Life’s a myth, just live, comply.
Lies engulf the world’s decay,
Herds obey, then fade away.

Wind remains — the last true sign,
Spread your wings — the flight’s divine.
Rise a little, see the veil —
Lost paradise beyond the hell.



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



Music Played in the Living Room

Music played within the room,
The family seemed whole and bright.
But all was just a hidden gloom —
Discord ruled, out of the light.

A staged scene of perfect kin,
Yet real, not dream, this broken play.
Forget the praise — the truth within:
Alienation holds its sway.

When passion fades, and selfish greed
Commands the soul, the ego reigns.
No press escapes that selfish need —
Alienation’s lasting chains.

Passion dies; with stranger’s pride,
You’re trapped alone within four walls.
Hatred rises, deep inside —
Strongest in the mind’s dark halls.

Oppression grows, the dictator’s hand,
Fascism rages more and more.
At neighbors all their anger lands,
And strikes them crueler than before.

Radio plays within the room —
Through it, fascism’s silent knock.
But fools believe the voice of doom,
Believing Darkness sets the clock.

No love can thrive within the pit,
Where all the world is turned to dust.
Left is stench from lies that sit —
And fools obey the voice unjust.

War and plague have shown us all —
No civilization remains.
In minds, the beast begins to crawl,
With fear and lies and madness’ chains.

A few exceptions cannot heal,
When rot and lies spread through the land.
Mad creatures rule — the nightmare’s real —
Insanity’s cruel command.

The world bows low beneath the weight —
“Love” and “friendship” now seem insane.
If you’re not horrified by fate,
Your path to Light you’ve not attained.

Only in Light, in purity,
Can love in all its forms arise.
In this world of cowed cruelty,
They lie that love can never rise.



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



Every Fool Has Their Own Method

Every fool has got a scheme —
A super method, so it seems:
To keep forgetting who they are,
To mimic reason from afar,

Spiritally barren, dry —
They swallow lies, won’t question why.
Obedient, they just comply,
No protest — let truth pass by.



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



Fool’s Method

Every fool’s got one thing clear:
Forget yourself, ignore the seer.
Mock the mind, starve the soul —
Swallow lies, play the role.



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



Thorny Verses

Not roses, but sharp anchar’s thorn,
For fools, no joy is freely born.
Only lies come free of cost—
A world of falsehoods, utterly lost.

They shove the lies to shake your core,
Fools smile while trembling more.
If given pause, they scheme again—
Manipulations never end.

Sharp verses pierce both flesh and soul,
And fools denounce with curses foul.
Thick shells protect their fragile minds,
Only thorns can clear such binds.

Thorns sting sharp—but not with hate—
An antibiotic to cleanse fate.
Chaos reigns, absurdity thrives,
Luck’s a myth; misery drives.

The worst is always set in place—
By fiends who craft the false embrace.
Creating problems, selling lies,
Offering decay in disguise.

Stealing all that once protected,
“For safety’s sake” — but all rejected.
Lies upon lies in endless spin,
Trapped in filth, no hope within.

Thorny verses — mind’s vaccine,
Against the filth and traitor’s spleen.
Don’t waste your time on useless trash—
Read fierce poems, fight the clash.

With fiends contend, no matter how cruel,
Though evil schemes to break your rule.
Just hold on tight, endure the night—
The world will shatter; God wills the fight.



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



Thorned Words

No roses here — just thorns that sting,
For fools, no free joy these verses bring.
Lies shove, shake, and twist the mind,
Fools cheer while truth’s confined.

Thick shells guard the fragile brain,
Only thorns can break the chain.
Verses sharp, like spirit’s shot—
Fight the filth, forget them not.

Hold fast—this world will crack and fall,
Divine will breaks the darkest thrall.



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



CowID and Post-CowID

Manic-depressive psychosis,
The “government” fell sick and mad.
A brazen fool, in bold diagnosis,
Raged wild before CowID had.

Then fools aligned, a seamless line—
No borders left, just endless blind.
The masses, dumb as bottle plugs,
Before the nonsense bowed like bugs.

The global madhouse shrouded all,
Rot’s scheme laid bare, beyond recall.
Two-thirds fools, the “sweethearts” sway,
While hidden fiends pull strings away.

The fools serve masters, lackeys meek,
With dirt and dirtier tales to speak.
Surrounded by the dumb and blind,
You cheer as death is close behind.

The madhouse spins, no rest, no cease—
A pause before new war’s release.
In Ukraine’s fire, the chaos grows,
The madness trusts the fiends’ imposed.

Again the global psychosis blinds,
Hope lost in lies that bind our minds.
A world of fools—no hope to spare,
They don’t give one ****, they don’t care.



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



CowID Madness

Manic fools rule wild and blind,
Brazen fools lead all mankind.
Masses bow to endless lies,
Madhouse spreads, no hope — it dies.

Wars ignite, the madness feeds,
Fiends pull strings, fulfill their needs.
Truth is crushed, the fools don’t care —
A broken world gasps in despair.



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



Phantasm of the Road to Hell

“Pan’s manna” — oily lies,
Each year darker, cold disguise.
Fools bow down and blindly go,
To Hell’s gates behind the show.

The road is strewn with false delight,
So thick, they’ll say it’s snowy white.
To hinder all who try to flee,
They follow close, they mimic “free.”

Just be like all — the easy trail,
On skis, on wheels, you will not fail.
You’ll reach fast all those “rewards,”
But crash and burn behind the boards.

They’ll claim success in twisted ways,
While souls are crushed in frantic craze.
The mind, too, breaks beneath the strain,
As “manna” feeds the blind insane.

Soulless fools protect their skins,
Speeding to the end’s grim sins.
The finish line — a cursed place,
Where all is lost without a trace.

Pan’s the shepherd, flock are fools,
Caring only for their skins and tools.
When all else’s lost and thrown away,
Destruction’s price is what they pay.



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



Road to Hell

Pan’s “manna” slick with lies,
Year by year, the darkness flies.
Fools all follow, blind and quick,
To Hell’s abyss, their souls will stick.

The path is thick with fake delight,
Snow or lies — all dressed in white.
Copy herd, obey the game,
Crash and burn in Hell’s own flame.

Pan’s the shepherd, fools the sheep,
Skin’s their only care to keep.
When all is lost and left to die,
Hell awaits beneath the sky.



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



Mouse Racket

A mountain gave birth to a mouse —
That’s man in this sad tale.
But outward calm veils the house,
A quiet, endless veil.

“He’s wise and strong,” they claim,
Feed him lies on a string,
Drive doubts far away —
Nurture pride in everything.

**** the spirit with “religion,”
Call the mind “science” instead,
Multiply lies and derision,
Mockery’s poison spread.

Mock all layers of false life —
That’s the fiend’s goal clear:
Not a world, but rotten strife,
Swing it far from here!

The Creator has left the scene —
Filth moves in, quick to thrive.
A satanic feast obscene —
That’s why lies survive.

Regression thrives on lies and fears
That filth forces on the weak.
Trembling feeds the flood of sneers —
Falsehoods drown the meek.

Mockery is the filth’s desire —
To crush the Spirit’s light.
Rot grows under dark empire,
In Satan’s servants’ night.

Success? A slave who’s weak and small,
Two-thirds fools in thrall.
The mountain gave birth to a mouse —
A vile, degrading thrall.

If you don’t see, you’re asleep,
Or turned “like all” — mutant deep.

Mouse racket — life in Hell,
Drop it now, save your soul.
It’s worthless trash; farewell.
Inside yourself find the goal.

With lies you’re doomed to fall —
Among the rats, the rabble, all.



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



Mouse Racket

A mountain birthed a rat,
That’s man — and that is that.
Calm outside, but full of lies,
Spirit crushed, truth dies.

Feed the fool his crafted scheme,
**** the soul, crush the dream.
Science, faith — tools to deceive,
Mockery’s web they weave.

Filth wants spirit dead,
Rot grows, lies widespread.
Two-thirds fools, the rest asleep,
In the rat’s den, darkness deep.

Wake or fall among the rats,
Escape the hell of gnats.

— The End —