Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Jason Cole Apr 2015
the heavy heart is a heathen
corrupter of better nature
committer of soul-treason

fueled by the miserable notion
that death is twilight
and life is dawn

to flight, to flail
to rage, to rail
to weep, to wail
to no avail

to unhope

and all of this minus the mercy

©Jason Cole
Jordan stenberg Mar 2014
why does the monster have to  come out of the shadows  

why have i become this evil being with no cause

is it because i fail and i have decided to Take whats mine

Choices we make reflect our actions trust me  i am not your savior i am completely a demon  to your parents eyes

the Corrupter which is false oh well past is past because i am a dark soul but i am still caring and will forever  Love is a sick sick feeling full of  idiotic happiness and false reality sky high then your on the ground broken in half

Aren't  all of man kind carry a black spot that is pure evil pure sick twisted hunger for revenge and the craving of wanting more and more
Brent Kincaid Aug 2018
I keep on telling the truth,
You know, like you never do.
I call you by name and say
All I say about you is true.
I wrote poems about you,
What the hell do you want?
You ignore all I have said
You ignore all my taunts.

I want you to sue me
Then with proof that you lie
The world can finally rest
And bid you goodbye
As they drag your fat ***
Off to Leavenworth jail
Where you won’t have Twitter,
Internet or even email.

I hope you get convicted
As the Corrupter In Chief
Because you are nearly
The worst kind of public thief.
You steal from the poor
And have kidnapped children,
And you  think your cowardice
Is a secret and is hidden.

Daily I hope someone intelligent
Will go sue you for defaulting
On the promises you made us
That have been obviously insulting.
You broadcast your hatred for us if we
Are not rich, perverted Republicans.
Now you are reversing all the good
That decent people have done.

I am ashamed of the millions
Who act like you are Jesus
When it’s as plain as your nose
You are like an obese Rhesus.
I’m sorry so many people are nuts,
Too weak-minded to recognize
What an ugly fate for America
You are unveiling before their eyes.
Alli Steven Oct 2012
She wonders why she wants more
More of what she shouldn’t have
Like poison or acid in her lungs
She should not want this
She should not want him

He is the poison running through her
The acid that’s tormenting her mind
She feels his presences inside of her
But yet she does not worry
She likes the feeling of losing hope
Of losing self respect
She does not care of what she sees herself as
But of what he sees in her

His eyes burn into her soul
They have corrupted in more ways than one
And therefore will lie forever
In her veins, in her mind and in her heart

She will look back on those days
And try to see what she saw in him
She will see nothing
But only remember of what he did
His kiss, his touch, his lips lingering along her neckline
All these will come back to her
And she will not mind

For her veins, and her mind, and her heart
They will all want it back
But now it will be to late
She has grown up and seen what he really is
A corrupter of the mind
Of the heart and of the veins that run threw her system
He will be there forever
And there’s nothing she can do

But she does not mind
For she wants him
No matter how he has possessed her
And has ruined her forever
She still wants the devil
And he still wants her soul
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2016
i once had two sessions with a west end
psychologist - a woman in her 50s or 60s...
she brewed chamomile tea (cha cha cha?
or cat? this aesthetic is a real burden for
some people - too many particulars to
remember - i blame the missing diacritical
marks, inviting the monopoly of
phonetic encoding, which put off the
people who are famous, because they never
wrote anything) - we spoke the first time
within the designated time-frame, a session
of an hour... i told her about a dream i had:
i am sitting with a boy in my room,
a hellish figure, gluttonous and burnt walks
in, behind him an artist's representation of
schizophrenia - the sole medical condition
that's abused by politics - shame really...
it means there's an authentic loss of understanding
what was once known as premature dementia -
long gone the ancient days of old age being
equated with melancholy - come forth the modern
age and old age being demented - as if to say
nothing was ever accomplished in the first place,
come old age: still no melancholy concerning
fulfilled accomplishments - i'm guessing 100
crosswords later, you'd get that...
about the same time when people are drawn away
from political language, and invited to play
games... bad move... whoever invented language
games never cared for the crucible of language's
essential purpose - to elevate, to elevate...
so this second session lasted well over 4 hours...
she really became a leech -
i told her about that dream, about those two
hellish figures, the boy sitting next to me just said:
this is Allah... so who the **** is this ***
accompanying him? i heard the story that Allah
has no accomplices... who's that?!
the rarity of a dream... so we talked for 4 hours about
this that and the other sipping chamomile tea...
buttery tea i call it...
                                    i'd eat a tonne of grass
to epitomise the muscles of horses, just to get
the right picture... then all the world went to ****...
quiet distinctly the memory of leaving one
of the two sessions, walking in the humid air of
west London, a woman dragging her caravan of
shopping bags... almost started weeping while
i passed her...
                         but what curiosity came when
psychologist said something encrypted in her sway
away from dogmatism -
                     she said to me: the police are looking
for a Greek...
                         i swear to god, i sometimes don't know
what people are talking about, it just fazes me,
fizzes in my insides and comes out as merely: huh?
the police are looking for a Greek.
        who's the Greek? do i know him?
  you sure they're not looking for a Roman?
         i used to do this trick when i reached the body
image zenith of finger down my throat,
and regurgitate chocolate - by the end i trained
my esophagus to the point where i was regurgitating
like if i were at a Roman food ****...
               it just came naturally...
  well, then i thought: **** it... can't be bothered,
i'm not getting any *****, and i'm putting all that work in...
  it's not worth it... let me get back into shape
with a lamb's torso... it really wasn't worth it...
still, the session was supposed to last an hour,
we started talking for 4... she got the money,
i just begat dim... and the light-bulb moment never came...
it's funny, because i was actually hiding a very simple
answer... but i did inspect the whole psychological spectrum...
didn't leave the practice any smarter,
i actually became smarter having experienced the rich boy's
treatment: psychology...          and the poor boy's treatment:
  psychiatry...            but i didn't leave the two
any wiser...           they really weren't that different
from zoological studies...
                         rich boy treatment didn't involve pills...
    poor boy's treatment did...
              my treatment just involved a drug of my choice
(a sleeping pill), alcohol - because i'd be raving mad
if i did have some sort of outlet - and a painkiller -
perfect night's sleep - and no Freudian ******* about
dreams having meaning - i need sleep,
   i don't need exploration of meaning that life designates
into some ******-pharmacological revision of the 1960s -
if you take acid wide-awake, there you are,
obstacles everywhere, nowhere is safe...
               dreams are like taking l.s.d. but in a controlled
environment: the unconscious...
               it's safe: the police are looking for a Greek?
what's that about? well, i guess 4 hours spent talking with
me is enough to produce such a random expression -
subsequently i have been profiled by the police:
one time lamenting in my garden,
          another time ******* in an alley,
     another time drinking beer on a bench in the centre of town,
  another time finishing a can of beer outside a shop
           in the outer-suburbia -
oh right, another time being driven home in one of their cars,
   those vans with cages, after being poisoned by warm
***** in a club and getting a Vladimir Klitschko handshake
to the cheek - stepped off the bus and landed face down
on the pavement - warm ***** is horrid enough,
           warm ***** that's spiked? that's another.
i'm wondering: do these people even know *******
someone, or am i experiencing one murderous ******
after another? it's just getting silly... it's like they're testing
the grounds for something shocking to jellyfish their *****
straight up to the moon: whizz-kids my ****.
but here i am, after all that - and i've picked up
essential Kierkegaard - you know... i think he's the first
man to create novels out of philosophy, he's actually
the first philosophical novelist... swear to god,
Nietzsche is nothing by comparison, i too could utter
maxim after maxim and later an aphorism or two...
but to write philosophy like a novel, Kierkegaard if your
man, your safest bet...
                                  he writes philosophy like a novel,
it just flows and flows out of him, if Nietzsche
is a poet-philosopher, then Kierkegaard is a novelist /
philosopher (yep, Zeus' lightning rod slash is just
as important as the hyphen compound -
                   which means the latter received all the appeal
that poetic hearts retain the most abhorred shadows:
that of women... horrid stuff) -
he was a true philosophical novelist.
              i guess the other thing to point out:
   i'll be known as the corrupter of old age -
        have no idea why children, animals and esp. old
people approach me while i'm minding my own business
     on park benches, smoking and drinking a beer -
but as it's said about western society: they simply
don't know how to drink *****! they haven't the foggiest!
ice cold, ice cold! warm ***** is horrid!
        this isn't whiskey, that wheat perfume...
you don't lounge with *****... ice cold... shot after shot
in between nibbles...
                                  and the drinking culture is even
worse, come to think about it in England...
                   no hot food, nibbles, crisps,
      chocolate... who... the... ****... drinks... alcohol...
of... that... calibre... and... nibbles... on... chocolate?!
              meat... meat, meat!
                           ah but wait...
   this country never experienced a Mongolian horde...
they're keen on the 19th century *******...
    the days when now wearing a hat was considered
a mental illness...
                                   they barely translated Descartes
into: he's not proving his existence,
             he's saying something akin to:
                         how thinking waterfalls' cascades into
either being, or non-being:
             hence the one side bravado and chauvinism,
and the other side shy sacred creature -
                  if you're conscious of thought
you won't shy away from it -
                                                       with so much sensual /
empirical ******* it's hard not to think,
         and the more it's easier to think, the harder it is
to be -                                  so we have the apples
and pears                    of Jacob -
               or as some old geezer once said (and rightly):
all the idiots have the confidence, while
                       the intelligentsia has all the doubts -
          guess that leaves the politicians as having
   all the necessary denials: primarily?
the denial of not lying.
Cedric McClester May 2019
By: Cedric McClester

Uncomfortable days
And sleepless nights
He eats their souls
In tiny bites
While promoting the
Supremacy of whites
The kind of controversy
In which he delights

They find themselves
Acquiescing
To various things
That he’s addressing
It takes a while for them
To learn their lesson
After they’ve become
One of his possessions

In good time
No one denies
Everything he touches
Eventually dies
Or becomes someone
For him to despise
With reputations tattered
Otherwise

If he’s not Satan,
Who is he then?
A corrupter
Of women and of men
Who swallows their souls
Like only he can
Which his victims
Eventually understand










Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2019.  All rights reserved.
The Herd of Turtles

Shell of lies—you bear it proudly,
Thicker grows it every day.
Scoundrels shaped it, stacking loudly—
Truth? It’s long been burned away.

If your mind is dull and hollow,
Reason lost without a trace,
Soon your shell will feel too shallow—
Then they’ll lay you in your place.

And the others, creeping, crawling,
Won’t break free or drift apart.
They will march where lies are calling,
Herded turtles—what a art!



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



SOS, or The Theater Starts with a Cloakroom, Hell—With Lies

A play begins where coats are hung,
But Hell is born from whispered lies.
And if you scan the news with eyes,
You'll see—deceit just multiplies.

The goal? To spread a Satan’s creed,
Corrupt the souls and twist the mind.
And oh, how well they sow the seed—
Now fascist rot is far and wide.

A world wrapped tight in fake delusion,
Lies upon lies—a grim decree.
Dishonor grows in dark profusion,
Defying nature’s purity.

Decay will spread, no way to halt it,
The point of no return is near.
A few more years—the end is calling...
"Now Saving Cattle—on the air!"



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



Read, Reader—See the Lie, Viewer

Read on, dear reader—watch, observer,
As heaps of filthy lies expand.
Deceitful words, a sly corrupter,
Plant mirages in your hand.

It’s staged with skill, a mass production,
To rot the soul—that is the aim.
The devil thrives on mind destruction,
A herd of husks—his perfect game.

He builds a Pen—so vast, enclosing
A third of Earth within its wall.
And as the world in lies keeps dosing,
Fake plagues arise to doom us all.



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



"Wise" and Other Rabble

Rabble’s mark—you’ll often find it
Stamped on "clever" heads as well.
Not just birth, but those who’d blind it,
Selling truth their souls would sell.

If you cheer while lies are spreading,
Aid the rot and play along,
Know—you join the mindless herding,
Spewing nonsense, loud and strong.



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



Exists Only What the Screen Declares

What says the screen—that must be real,
No other world outside.
Dark is now the light they feel,
Truth is flipped and cast aside.

CowID, fear, the fools obey,
Another war in sight.
They "care"—or so they say,
But care has drowned us tight.

The world sank deep in blind submission,
Hell knocks beneath the floor.
We've almost breached the last partition—
Three out of four—mad to the core.



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



Should I Multiply "Joy"?

Should I seek to multiply joy?
Well, frankly, I don’t care.
Awareness, that’s my only ploy,
Though bitterness fills the air.



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



Pseudo-life Hanging by a Thread

Since childhood, hanging by a thread,
You don’t fall—you just drift away.
Seems you’ve found a way instead
To make that thread your home, they say.



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



Global Madness

Springtime’s here, the madness grows—
Yes, that’s right—CowID’s the key!
We control the wretched flows,
Lies have almost set us free.



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



Heat and the Wires Melt

The heat—and wires start to fry,
In Soviet homes, a desperate try.
If it's not ***** in your hand,
You’ll play the box, my friend—just stand.



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



Curfew for Fools

Curfew falls for fools outside,
The streets are empty, cold, and wide.
The wise stay home, their minds intact,
For they know—the world is but a fact.



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



Hermit Crab

My idol is the hermit crab,
A lazy soul, I don’t need lab.
To hell with life, I’m free, no care,
All my poems, just for me to share.

In everything, the pests will find,
A profit-seeking, greedy mind.



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



Progress or Press?

The Wheel of Samsara CRUSHES
Fools with progress—empty lies.
The soul’s rebirth, it just pushes—
Hell’s PRESS will bring their demise!

Look around—are they still human,
Or icons of Satan’s reign?
Soft jelly fills their skulls, and
Their feelings burn with endless pain.

Driven by emotions’ fury,
Creatures march towards their doom—
Wars, fake plagues—their lies are blurry,
Peddling anything to bloom.

A few exceptions—statistical mistake,
But darkness drags each generation’s wake.
To deny the truth is sinful, so,
Seeing death—that’s the mortal woe...



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



The Chancellor’s Deceit

The chancellor's schemes have led the way,
And in that filth, the people stray.
Believe the creatures, lose your soul—
No talent, no worth, no goal.



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



News of Hell

The news is just a load of lies,
Propaganda fills the skies.
Not a day without the waste,
Insanity’s their latest taste.

They watch the fools with broken minds,
The result: nothing—just a grind.
Zero’s stretched to nothing more,
And Black God laughs forevermore.



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



Horses at the Crossing

Horses die at the crossing's edge,
Left bank, right—both lead to dread.
From the mud to worse we ride,
Wait a bit—there’s no respite.
Rest? Unlikely—they’ll decide,
The beasts will beat you down with pride.



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



"Upbringing" and the Future Path

A toddler bears a heavy load—
Rules of *******, set in stone.
Then he walks life's narrow road:
Coward, traitor… or just prone

To be foolish. Odds are high—
That’s his fate, unless one day
He resists and dares to try
Walking his own, freer way.

If he learns to think, not trust
Lies disguised as "wisdom" bright,
He will cast off Hell’s own rust,
Spread his wings and take to flight.

If in dreams and not awake,
Still, the day may come at last—
If he dares the veil to break,
Hell will fade into the past.

To the Spirit’s heights ascend,
But beware—one truth is raw:
Those who never dream or fend
Serve as chains for Evil’s law.



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



****** of Mind and Talent by Overloading Memory with Nonsense

School exam – a child’s trial,
Workaholics, rise once more!
How much longer will denial
Crush young minds through mem’ry’s door?

How much longer will they force us,
Through their programs, through their rules?
This concern is most enormous
For the foes of kids and schools.

Schemes are crafted by the schemers –
Dumbing down’s their hidden aim.
Parents fail to see the dreamers
Taken hostage in this game...

What to learn? Not what—but thinking!
Through the spark of keen finesse!
Dullards rise, their reason sinking—
Schooling’s weight brings mind’s distress.



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



Vile Traitors

The cash is gone—so fast it flew,
CowID declared in every nation.
But soon it chokes them, through and through,
A thorn unseen—yet no salvation.

No time to pay for what they’ve done—
These Judases will rot and perish.
The filth they spread will come undone,
The Earth won’t keep what none should cherish.

Yet few are pure—so loss is small,
Corruption weakens its foundation.
A better people soon will call
For kindness, strength, and restoration.

And what of those who stand alone?
We’ll see—the time itself will show it.
But liars bred by demons’ throne
Still flood the world, and devils stoke it.



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



A Circus on a Wire

"Choosing presidents"—what a show!
A circus played on tightropes high.
The dumbed-down crowd must never know—
Deception rules, and truth’s a lie.

Propaganda spins the wheel,
Lifts a fool like Bush up tall.
Soulless jesters love to deal
Kingship to the lowest thrall.

Puppets bow to wicked lords—
Thus it’s always been before.
Fools are trapped in false accords,
Jesters rule forevermore.

A circus real—not just a play,
Theater's but a hollow dream.
If the world’s in Hell’s decay,
Then lies are ***** supreme.



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



The World—A Dead Man’s Cart

The cart of death rolls on,
Its journey nearly gone.
No mercy, no revision—
The end is no decision.

So do not heed the mind,
But leave regrets behind.
Let spirit guide your motion—
A path, not mere devotion.

Just seek—don’t fear the night,
For seeking is the light.
The goal is not essential,
But seeking’s quintessential...

The mind may lead astray,
And cast you in delay.
The soul’s pure transformation
Is seen through revelation...



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



Wild Game

Fences small yet close together—
People fail to break on through.
Many lost their best endeavors,
Struck by lies, disguised as true.

Falsehoods flourish, masks appealing,
Sugar-coated, painted bright.
Still in caves—our darkened ceilings,
Kin is "kin" and that feels right.

Nations, kennels filled with barking,
Set to clash in frenzied lies.
Feudal order, crude and starking,
Seems more human, seems more wise.

Times grow bitter, times grow colder,
Cruel, deceitful—on and on.
And the verdict, growing bolder:
We have reached the very BOTTOM.



--- Total 21 poems. ---
Manifesto of the Spirit-Poet

I’m no lyricist. I’m a strike.
Not a singer of illusions — a destroyer of them.
My verse is no adornment — it’s a weapon.
My rhythms are the Spirit’s footsteps on the flesh of lies.
Rhyme is not my chain — it's my blade,
and form is a flash of truth tearing through the veil of deceit.

I don’t seek the Light —
I awaken it within each word.
I don’t fear the Dark —
I expose it down to its final shadow.

The world is soaked in falsehood —
and I answer with poetry,
a reboot of Consciousness,
a purge of the Ego-virus,
a thunder-roar of Spirit
ripping the illusion’s fabric apart.

I am the Poet who speaks for the Source.
Sarcasm is my shield. Fury, my flame.
Metaphysics, my path.
Each line — a strike.
Each image — a challenge.

“Write as if Spirit dictates.
Strike as if each syllable holds the final truth.”



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



STRIKE WITH SPIRIT.
RHYTHM IS A WEAPON.
TRUTH DOESN’T RHYME — IT DETONATES.
BURN THE LIES.
SPEAK FOR THE SOURCE.



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



SPIRIT — HAS RISEN.
MIND — ON TRIAL.
RHYME — A GRENADE.
VERSE — AN OFFENSIVE.
EGO — ERASED.
TRUTH — IN FLAMES.
WORD — A WEAPON OF THE SOURCE.



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



SPIRIT… has RISEN.
MIND… is on TRIAL.
RHYME — is a GRENADE.
VERSE — an OFFENSIVE.
EGO… ERASED.
TRUTH — IN FLAMES.
WORD… is a WEAPON… of the SOURCE.



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



Word — as Explosion

Don’t scream — strike.
Don’t beg — ignite.
You came not to soothe souls,
but to shatter the hooks.

You're not blind. You’re the Eye of Flame,
piercing through the dark.
You are the Herald of the Primordial —
your verse pulls spirits out of the mark.

Time has rotted. The world decays.
Truth is lined up for the shot.
Then you are the final shard of fire
that won’t cool down — but cuts.

You're not a poet. You are the Blast.
Your word — sharp as blade's edge.
Let the Spirit whisper —
but you must roar on Its behalf.

Wake the ones who’ve lost the Source.
Open fire on the Lie.
If you’ve accepted the Word —
strike with it until the world cries.



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



The Prize Draw at the Worldwide Corporation "Horns & Hooves"

A hoof’s the prize —
Sheep stay fat and safe,
And so-called wolves —
Teeth just on the shelf.

We’ll scare with horns.
Fools can rule
By lies as well —
That’s always easy.

Bones instead of meat,
Dancing’s in full swing.
This is Vita’s dance,
When the Soul’s been killed.

Bones, dance, and howls —
If media triples,
We’ll **** all Souls —
Everyone will listen.

Draw little horns:
Fear — urgent care!
And finish off with a HOOF,
Hidden in Satan’s lair.

Satanism is everywhere —
“Normal” for Judas.
Shown with CowID,
Earlier with “AIDS.”

Satan’s own nature,
So soon there’ll be
A World Concentration Camp —
Red cross on the flag.

Power in Hooves’ world,
If the Soul is dead —
The mark of Satan.
Too late to cry, “kids.”

World Concentration Camp,
Red cross on the flag,
Will be destroyed,
Satan overthrown.

Those who surrendered,
Who fought no Dark,
The same fate awaits —
For their ****** ways.



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



Horns and Hooves rule —
Souls killed, lies fuel.
Fear’s the game, Satan’s flame —
Fight or burn in shame.



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



The Fall

This is no life — it’s a fall into the Abyss,
Consciousness’s content — delirium, mist.
If you look soberly — impartial, unkissed —
The whole of Hell laid bare in its midst.

Falling, you grasp for some shield,
Anything to cling to, your fate to wield.
Here comes the madness, beaten and sealed,
Forced on all since birth — a poisoned field.

That madness turns most into drones,
Only few escape its crushing tones.
Yet madness promises the easy roads —
Just bow to Evil, and Lies as your codes.

If falling you clutch an illusion’s crystal,
Born from delirium — a fragile thistle.
You sink in the filth through terror’s whistle —
Lost in the muck, a vanished missile.

Delirium’s rings expand, swell,
You become the fool who’ll believe and fell.
Bend to Evil, break, rebel —
A twisted beast in the devil’s hell.

Delirious lies take your whole life,
If caught — your Soul castrated, rife
With stinking slime, no end to the strife,
Madness piles up — no healing knife.

The world’s long turned into a Lost Asylum,
And crushing Consciousness is the main anthem.
But soullessness — a more favored system,
For inhuman beasts that poison the prism.

They poison Consciousness and the Soul,
Control’s method to make you whole.
Listen only to total lies’ toll —
We’ll **** you with falsehood’s role.

There’s a fake virus, a war-game grim,
Rotten **** will starve the world’s limb,
If lost to delirium and lies’ dim,
If the Spirit’s connection is broken, slim.

Fear and delirium feed soulless hordes,
Their tool is flow, their spreading cords.
Darkness is also the means and swords —
The junk here has no limits or boards.

This world is no place for the wise,
Find means to save — the truth’s disguise.
Face the lies — don’t live in lies,
Stop deceiving yourself, break the ties.

False hope is part of delirium’s blend,
This poem’s scene, this bitter end.
You’re trapped in mad chaos, no pretend —
Only Spirit can save, only God defend.

Spirit Inside. Stop believing the tales,
Of “messiahs” and all their sales.
If Spirit in people dies and pales —
All is lost forever in shadowy vales.

Reject ALL. Go Within. Find the light,
A cure from madness, the spirit’s fight.
Our song’s unsung, still bright in the night —
Wake from DELIRIUM — reclaim your sight!

You are Spiritual Essence — the true fact,
All else is forced nonsense — that’s the pact.
Start only there. Pure awareness intact —
Follow it close... no turning back.



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



Fall’s abyss is madness’ grip —
Spirit wakes — or soul will slip.
Lies bind tight, but break the chain —
Rise within, escape the pain!



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



Intensity

The main thing in life — extreme intensity:
Burn yourself up with no mercy or rest.
Or wild waves of lies and insanity
Will swallow your mind — your soul dispossessed.

You must seek the path of salvation,
Sharpen your mind, stay alert and alive.
It’s hard, but only dedication
Leads to Freedom — or doom will arrive.

Worldwide fascism breeds all the pain,
Building a camp — now global and cold.
Sadism dressed up as care’s insane,
You must fight back — be fearless and bold.

Don’t fear — you’re already dead inside,
No future awaits in this cattle’s hell.
Though sick of the lies and the tide,
Fight and toil — prepare for the swell.

Only through struggle can you save your soul —
No other way remains in this fight.
Never bow to the wicked fate’s toll,
Honor above all is the guiding light.

Find comrades for the battle ahead —
Only united can we stand tall.
No fate as slaves — black fascism’s dread
Hangs heavy, ready to make us fall.

Drive away the chaos from your mind —
Since childhood, nonsense was sown.
Pseudoscience blinds, reason confined,
Worldviews rotten, the root of the throne.

Only in Spirit can life go on —
Everything else is a hollow lie.
The sun burns the foul world’s dark dawn —
Darkness in minds where soullessness lies.

Strengthen your Spirit — all else is decay.
Don’t cling to shame’s valley of night.
Soon you’ll escape the vile chains’ sway —
To the realm of Spirit, Reason, and Might.



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



Burn yourself or be consumed —
Fight fascism’s darkened tomb.
Spirit strong — break every chain,
Freedom’s fire will rise again!



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



Pain

Pain’s an indicator —
A sign of the lies.
Where fascist dictators
Spread endless disguise.

If you feel pain —
Then you’re still alive,
Breathing free air
In Hell’s cruel dive.

Pain is a reward —
Proof you have mind.
This “life” adored
By **** of a kind.

Only suffering
Is the soul’s share.
In hardness and early despair,
All here are aware.

Without shudders to bear,
To see Hell’s whole sight,
Only piranhas dare —
Death’s circle of blight.

Death of Mind and Conscience,
Honor and Soul.
No sadder existence —
Not human, but lice’s role.

Worship your pain,
Strengthen your mind:
If you want Freedom —
Grief you must find.

If your mind’s strong,
You won’t stray or bend,
In a world blind,
Where lies ascend.

Only a few
Break free from the rest.
They’re like birds —
Falling, distressed.

No swallows survive.
Sun soars above —
The vow must arrive:
Burn all the mud.

Mud of folly,
Stench of fascist schemes —
In this dreadful world,
Fascism reigns supreme.

There’ll be much pain —
To cleanse the Spirit’s core,
Strength where only Will remains —
No slaves, no more.



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



Pain wakes the mind — don’t ever yield!
Fight the fascist shadow’s field.
Spirit burns through darkest night,
Freedom’s born in furious fight!



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



Human Undermachinery

A few crude, simple elements
Determin  this wretched world we see.
Clear in flashes of enlightenment —
And only God in such decree.

The core are ideas and images
That shape the social "life" we know.
Hell’s blueprint spreads across all stages,
Or madhouse deep where fools still grow.

The key is "You are only flesh":
Stoke fear, and hold the world in hand.
Filthy beasts have long enmeshed,
And turned the world to shooting stand.

Images barren, thoughts so trite,
Associations dumb and cheap.
But restless minds can’t sleep at night —
Beasts wage war that’s dark and deep.

Primitive thoughts like broken reels
Spin in skulls, a loop so tight.
King workaholic steals our zeal,
Fleeing horror’s endless blight.

Occupy yourself with filth —
So not to think beyond the "measures,"
Marked by vile worms’ own will —
Pioneers set as children’s treasures.

Aged children — Hell’s scouts march in rows —
As always, to slaughter’s song.
Beasts make you foul and full of woes
With "school," with "work," and TV’s wrong.

Deadliest weapon in the stand —
Strikes down all obedient “kids.”
Only lies and baseless slander
Come from these devils’ bids.

Here truth’s scarce, just empty thought,
Fragments wild in kaleidoscope.
Madness steers those vile, distraught —
Leading souls to death’s tight rope.

Schizophrenia, dumbed-down state,
Produced in constant endless stream.
Poisoned food accelerates fate —
Decay unfolds within the scheme.

Pseudoscience crafts the “fake world” frame,
Scoundrels work their tricks anew.
From this hellhole spirit’s drained,
The world a cesspit’s ugly view.

Fake religions made for fools,
Utter nonsense, shame for mind.
“Official” chains for Spirit’s tools —
Spirit’s death so cruelly signed.

Lies prevail, they call it “progress,”
Stoking falsehoods with mad applause.
This Hell’s no “soul’s test” or process —
Few withstand its brutal laws.

“Smart” folks busy fixing trash,
Lies they shuffle day and night.
Beasts shift blame in sneaky flash,
Pointing “enemies” in fight.

Beasts rule through division’s art,
Crafting enemies on demand.
Their goal is Spirit’s fall apart,
If so — destruction looms the land.

So break free from this mad wheel,
Seek truth inside at first, take flight.
Only with truth can wounds heal —
The fight ahead calls for might.

Enemy’s beast — find ways to fight,
Eradicate their vile blight.
If all in Spirit, all aligned —
Strengthen Spirit — save mankind.



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



Science Madness

The stubborn scorn they cast to mock
Life’s riddles deep and vast —
Is sieve that filters out the fake,
The “science” lies amassed.

In name of “saving reason’s light,”
They smother what’s beyond,
That irrational, the bright
Spirit they abscond.

Their arguments run wild and blind,
Where miracles should rise —
Not petty things, but grand designs
They choose to compromise.

There’re many proofs, but here’s the crux:
The mind so poor and blind
Believes the lies and empty talks
That fakery designed.

Only the mind accepts the tales
Of “theories” bought and sold,
From pseudo-science packs and scales —
Their filthy lies unfold.

Those lies reject the Spirit pure,
The Truth, the Soul’s bright spark,
Their master is a hornèd fiend
That thrives in shadows dark.

The lord of vice and corrupter,
False science bows and prays
To Satan’s priest — the tempter
Who kills with “science’s” ways.

Take CowID — the world’s dumb trap,
A pen for blind control,
No doubt — the lie’s a brutal slap,
That crushes heart and soul.

“Scientific” freaks and evil shills
Will wreak more pain ahead,
If Spirit’s gone — then lies and kills
Will rule the living dead.

Erasing Spirit, that’s the game,
“Science” works to deceive,
And all this mess is no mere shame —
Designed to make you grieve.

Life’s mystery, once bright and bold,
Now drowned in fear and slime,
The filth that turned pure gold to cold —
A darkness out of time.

And those who hold God’s sacred spark
Are turned to sluggish slime,
All dull and grey, crushed in the dark —
The end of Light’s bright climb.

The attack of false science falls,
Relentless, sharp, and grim,
These traitors sell us to the walls —
But justice will be grim.

Balance will come, the mind will serve
The Soul in rightful reign,
And madness masked as science’s nerve
Will vanish, lost in pain.



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



Science Lies, Spirit Fights!

Madness cloaked in “science” lies,
Darkness hides behind their guise.
Erasing soul with poisoned breath —
But Spirit strikes, defies death!

False priests sell doom and pain,
But truth will rise — break every chain!
No more fools in shadow’s grip —
Science lies — we’ll make it slip!



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



Demos and the Rest

Demos’ dull and tiresome chore —
To bear the filth that reigns around.
Be brave here once — they’ll beat you sore,
No mercy in this cursed ground.

The **** bow down with empty lies,
Brains clogged with poison, rotten dreams,
Souls and minds decay, despise —
Demos sees no light, it seems.

It feeds on mirages, the haze
That beasts around this hellish place.
The honest soul, with truth ablaze,
Meets rotten fools face to face.

These fools are shackled in the mist,
Like chains that bind their every thought.
The snitches thrive, their goals persist —
A spirit’s death is what they sought.

To crush the soul and break the will,
To make a slave who blindly moves
Deeper into Hell’s dark chill —
A New Hell’s path the weak mind proves.

If you believe you’re not in Hell,
Though rotten slow, you waste away.
Here lies on lies forever dwell —
In “official” lies they stay.

Schools churn out the stupid flock,
From childhood drained of strength and light.
Chains of reason, broken lock —
Souls trampled under crushing might.

Here they destroy both mind and soul,
No longer human, just like lice.
Only few with spirits whole,
Melt as reason pays the price.

Wake up! It’s not a dream you see —
Beasts walk free on every side.
Mystics learn to silently be,
Then face the crowd with fear defied.

Dead souls gather, graveyard’s guests,
But restless still, they prowl and feed.
A pasture’s harvest for the pests —
They drain the spirit, **** the seed.

Just pets or cattle, low and poor,
Not noble breeds but broken lot.
Shut Hell’s door tight, or it will more
Destroy you, tie your final knot.

Walk into Spirit’s stronghold bright —
Only there is true escape.
Waiting here is futile fight —
God won’t come to this dead shape.

Those few who dare, create anew,
Become the Makers of their fate.
No more decay beneath the ***** —
Killers of Spirit and Mind, abate.



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



Demos' Hell

Demos grovels, blind and dumb,
Beaten down for standing tough.
Lies enslave, the spirits numb,
Hell’s the game — the world’s enough.

**** control with chains of lies,
**** the soul, destroy the mind.
Only few will dare to rise,
Break the cage — leave death behind.

Spirit’s fortress is the key,
Hell won’t hold the brave and free.
Make the Makers — you and me,
Strike the chains, be destiny.



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



Survival

A psychovirus was made to fight
All other techs in one great race,
Claiming it can bring to light
Survival for the human race.

Its strength — the clearest truth it brings,
No mystic haze, no empty dreams,
Success in life by solid means,
Without illusions’ false extremes.

But memes themselves evolve and shift,
Like whispers in a broken phone,
Distorted, lost, they slowly drift
From seeds of truth to lies alone.

For marketing and selling schemes,
Evolution picks the memes
That’re simple, clear, and easy spread —
Complex ideas left for dead.

The goal is survival, pure and grim,
Through breeding those who bow and bend.
A contest where the world grows dim,
With garbage fed into the blend.

To dumb the herd, the soul expelled,
Nonhumans crave this poisoned feed.
A monster kept, obedient, quelled,
To feed and follow their dark creed.

Memes become a psychovirus —
Devouring minds, the spirit’s bane.
Chaos spreads like a deadly virus,
Driving madmen into insane.

The hordes of freaks make vile their trade,
Turning sane to beasts who feed
At the trough, all lined and made
To march in step with hate and greed.

To **** with lies is cheap and swift —
See false pandemics in their grip.
Each pioneer, a puppet’s gift,
Who trusts the screen’s hypnotic script.

They drone to believe and obey,
The nonhumans take their toll.
Poisons jabbed to dull the way,
Memes crush reason, crush the soul.

Invent the problem, fan the fear,
Spread the lies, let terror grow.
Battle memes will hunt and sneer,
Making all into the low.

Primitives rule where reason fades,
Smart minds drown in foul disdain.
Into hell’s broad flood, it wades —
A world consumed by endless pain.

Hell for mind and soul is this,
A global shatter, grim decay.
Corrupt ****** scream their psychovirus,
Till the light is swept away.

The point of no return is passed,
Fascists drag the world in filth.
A putrid fate, held fast and cast,
The planet drowned in ruin’s wilt.

But those who do not yield or fall,
Whose spirits fight against the night,
Will face the fiery solar squall —
The blazing storm that burns to light.



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



Survival War Cry

Psychovirus spreads its plague —
Brains corroded, spirits crushed.
Lies enslave, no soul to save —
Mind and heart in ashes flushed.

Feed the herd with poison memes,
Dumbed to death by fear and lies.
Fake wars, false cries, broken dreams —
Truth suffocates, hope dies.

No escape from this abyss,
Fascist filth drags all below.
But the few who still resist —
Face the fire, strike the blow.

Burn it down, unleash the storm,
Solar flames to cleanse the night.
Fight for mind, for spirit’s form —
Rise, revolt, reclaim the light!



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



Bio-Waste

Trash dwells only in the mind,
Fear’s the poison in the soul.
Food and shelter—things confined,
All the rest just ashes, cold.

From their childhood, lies are sown,
Faith without a border’s chain.
Passed down ways to fall alone,
Knees bowed deep in blind disdain.

Only teaching to obey,
Spirit lost, forgotten flame.
Few are wise—kept at bay,
They await the Morning’s Name.

But the fiends will always come,
Monsters ruling, cold and cruel.
Wandering in webs they spun,
Lies their trade, the greatest tool.

“How long can we believe and sleep?”—
Not for them these questions ring.
Like wild beasts, their souls run deep—
To the godless void they cling.

Bio-waste, shout down the drain,
Taste is all that they proclaim.
One command their minds obey,
Sharper than a mouse’s way—
A slimy earthbound thing.

Rats run faster in the dark,
Not where warmth pretends to be.
Trash is told it’s crowning spark—
Lucifer’s vile mockery.

Only **** bows down in shame,
Wretched fools for kids to see.
Money bags and Judas’ name,
“Powers” roosting—chickens, free.

Factories built just to burn
Trash that’s fed by lies’ flood.
Poisoned needles twist and turn—
Killing trash, or so they’d hood.

Trash is “curable,” they say,
Cowards take the lethal jab.
Less than fascist’s vile sway—
Treading earth with cruelest stab.

Between the wars of fire and hate,
Chosen swine with eyes wide shut.
Syringes feed their ****** fate,
Stirring filth—corrupt and cut.

Neighbors—liar doctors, thugs,
***** cops who play their game.
No “experiment” can scrub
This vile, festering shame.

Such is trash, such are these days,
How much filth has piled high?
Hell itself—its cruel haze,
Burn it all beneath the sky.

If this hell’s the only way—
Then destroy, destroy it all.
From fascist beasts we’ll save the day,
And watch the wicked fall.

That’s why the Sun shines burning bright,
Scorching down to bitter core,
Wiping out this cursed blight—
Hell’s vile poison evermore.



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



Bio-Waste

Trash lives only in the mind,
Fear corrodes the fragile soul.
Food and shelter—chains that bind,
Everything else burns to coal.

Lies implanted from the start,
Faith without a single line.
Teaching how to fall apart,
Bow your head, obey, decline.

Only slaves they want to breed,
Spirit crushed beneath their heel.
Few resist this poison seed,
Waiting for a dawn unreal.

Monsters rule this cursed land,
Fiends that lie to keep control.
Spinning webs with filthy hands,
Feeding lies to **** the soul.

“How long will fools believe the lies?”—
Not for them these words to ask.
Like dumb beasts with glassy eyes,
In the darkness wear their mask.

Bio-waste—flush down the drain,
Taste and **** define their game.
Sharp as vermin’s biting bane,
Crawling things with no shame.

Rats run from the warming light,
Not where comfort feigns to be.
Trash believes it’s God’s own right—
Lucifer’s mockery.

**** bows low, no fight, no flame,
Scoundrels taught to serve and kneel.
Money-hungry Judas’ name,
Power roosters crow and squeal.

Factories to burn the trash,
Fuel the flames with lies and hate.
Needles filled with poisoned ash—
**** the weak, decide their fate.

Trash “can heal,” they proudly claim,
Cowards swallow poison’s bite.
Less than fascists, but the same—
Crushing Earth with blind spite.

War’s hot breath upon the neck,
Chosen pigs with poisoned veins.
Syringes crack the last speck—
Fueling lies, spreading chains.

Neighbors lie, fake docs, cops,
Playing cruel and ***** games.
No excuse, no cleansing stops
This cesspool, filth, and shame.

This is trash—these darkest times,
Filth amassed and piled so high.
Hell itself in grime and crimes,
Burn it all beneath the sky.

If this hell is all we’ve got,
Then destroy, destroy it whole.
From the fascists’ filthy plot,
Save the Earth, reclaim the soul.

That’s why Sun now scorches fierce,
Burns the poison to the bone.
Hell’s foul stench it will pierce—
Wipe out ****, end their throne.



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



Bio-Waste

Trash dwells only in weak minds,
Fear’s the poison in their veins.
Food and shelter—chains that bind,
All the rest is ash and stains.

Lies shoveled in from birth,
Faith dumbed down, no spine to show.
They train to crawl in dirt,
Bow down, obey, stay low.

Only slaves breed in their lair,
Spirit crushed beneath their boots.
Few dare breathe the cleaner air,
Waiting for the Truth’s pursuits.

Monsters rule with toxic lies,
Fiends that crawl and spread their slime.
They enslave with crooked ties,
Killing souls, one lie at a time.

“How long will fools choke on their chains?”
Beasts with empty eyes comply.
Trapped in darkness, numb to pain,
Walking dead that live to die.

Bio-trash—flush down the drain,
Filth that feeds on every lie.
Cunning vermin, sly and vain,
Crawling where the morals die.

Rats flee light, embrace the dark,
Trash thinks it’s the crown’s own heir—
Lucifer’s poisoned mark,
**** bow down in blind despair.

Scoundrels profit, Judas’ brood,
Money roosters, puppets vile.
Burn the trash, ignite the feud,
Spread the plague, deny the trial.

Needles pierce the dumb and weak,
Poison sold as “healing grace.”
Fascists tread on Earth’s own cheek,
Crushing all the human race.

War’s hot breath, the needle’s sting,
Chosen pigs in chains confined.
Syringes make the madness king,
Spreading venom, enslaving mind.

Lying docs and crooked cops,
Playing filthy, brutal games.
No redemption, no clean stops—
Hell on Earth, devouring flames.

Trash and filth, these wicked times,
Piled high in stinking heaps.
Hell itself in darkest crimes,
Burn it down—no mercy, no sleeps.

If this hell’s all we have left,
Then destroy it—root and bone.
From fascist ****, from death’s theft,
Save the Earth, reclaim the throne.

Sun now scorches, fierce and raw,
Burns the poison to its core.
Hell’s foul stench will face the law—
**** will drown, forevermore.



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



Bio-trash burns — no mercy shown!
Fools and fiends will rot alone.
Venom’s fire will cleanse the ground,
Hell’s own **** is going down!



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



1.
Trash-born ****, your time is done —
We fight the plague, we burn the sun!

2.
Falsehood breeds the vile and weak,
Truth’s the hammer — hear it speak!

3.
Slaves of lies, obey no more —
Break the chains, ignite the war!

4.
Venom-fed and spirit-void,
By our fire you’ll be destroyed!

5.
Infected minds, corrupt and blind —
We’ll scorch the lies, leave none behind!

6.
Fascist ****, your reign will end —
The Spirit’s wrath will not bend!

7.
Feed no more the poison herd —
Rise as one, unleash the word!

8.
Cursed vermin breed decay —
We burn their hell, we clear the way!



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




Infected minds, corrupt and blind,
We’ll scorch the lies, leave none behind!
Fascist ****, your reign will end,
The Spirit’s wrath will never bend!

Feed no more the poison herd,
Rise as one, unleash the word!
Cursed vermin breed decay,
We burn their hell, clear the way!

No more slaves to mental chains,
Break the darkness, end the pains!
Truth and Spirit—our sharp sword,
Strike the lies and cut the cord!



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




Brains infected, swarming pest,
Lies like venom in their chest.
Fascist shadows choke the light,
But Spirit flames will burn the night!

Wolves in sheep’s torn hollow skin,
Feeding madness, breeding sin.
Chains of sludge drag down the soul—
We’re the fire that makes it whole!

No more puppets, cracked and broken,
Words like hammers, sharp and spoken.
Truth’s a blade, pure and raw,
Slicing through their poisoned law!

Rise, the storm of inner thunder,
Shatter silence, tear asunder.
Hell’s own muck, we’ll purge and cleanse—
From the ashes, freedom rends!



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




Brains turned to sludge — virus plague,
Lies like claws, a poisoned plague.
Fascist filth, a stinking blight,
Choking truth, devouring light.

Wolves with fangs in human skin,
Puppets dumb, their souls grow thin.
Chains of rot around the mind,
Spirit crushed, the blind lead blind.

Burn the hive of wicked liars,
Feed their hell to raging fires!
Truth’s no mercy — strike and rend,
Smash the frauds, their twisted end!

Rise like storms, fierce and raw,
Rip apart their demon law!
Hell’s own sludge we’ll raze to dust —
From their ashes, free we must!



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



WAR CRY OF THE BROKEN MIND

Brains fried, minds hacked — virus strike!
Lies like bullets, shot to psyche!
Fascist ****, the stink, the slime,
Choking screams, end of time!

Wolves in skins of man, they creep,
Feed the herd — dumb, blind, asleep.
Chains of rot wrap tight, no breath,
Spirit crushed beneath cold death.

Burn the nests where liars breed,
Feed their flesh to flames of greed!
No mercy now — rip and tear,
Smash the cult that feeds on fear!

Rise! Storm-screams tear the sky,
Break the cage, watch demons die!
Hell’s mud floods their rotten halls,
From the wreckage — freedom calls!



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



APOCALYPSE SHOUT

Brains fried, infected minds enslaved,
Virus screams — the soul depraved!
Fascist filth in suits of lies,
Feed the herd — dumbed down to die.

Puppets dance on strings of ****,
Lying snakes with venom spit.
Cogs in hell’s infernal grind,
Human trash, dumb and blind.

Burn the filth, the rotten breed,
Feed the fires of righteous greed!
Tear the mask — reveal the ****,
Crush the plague till senses numb!

Bloodied fists and shattered walls,
Rise above the prison calls!
Hell’s own spawn will drown in mud,
Freedom’s roar — a cleansing flood!

No mercy for the mindless slaves,
No peace for those who dig their graves.
Break the chains — ignite the fight,
Scorch the darkness with pure light!



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



Brains steamed in toxic stew,
Mindless drones in their own poo.
Suits of slime, rats in the den,
Feeding filth to stupid men.

Fascist puppets on a string,
Spitting poison, death they bring.
Rotten flesh in gilded cage,
Slaves to fear, fools of the age.

Trash heap crawling, slick with lies,
Feeding on the world’s demise.
Bloodsuckers in the halls of shame,
Selling poison, fanning flame.

Burn it down, scorch the roots,
Trash the lies and rotten fruits.
Chains will snap, walls will fall,
Freedom’s fire will burn them all!

Mocking gods with hollow cries,
Feeding fear, the weakest dies.
Rise, you few, from swamp and dust,
Strike with wrath — in truth we trust!

No mercy for the soulless clowns,
No shelter in their poisoned towns.
Cut the cords, unleash the beast,
From their grip — be never ceased!



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



Art

Dedicated to poets and composers
Who only spew heroic snot
About events long gone, forgotten—
A show of glory, all for show.

What is art?
Just staged emotions.
Poems are vile
If not deeply personal.

They’re just vanity,
Torment,
Void:

Vanity of effort,
Torment of meaning,
A label of weakness,
Rhythms devoid.

Only snot along the path
Of such quests.
Harder to reach the edge
Of other knowledge.

It’s not poetry, nor rapture,
But peak and… abyss.
No one grants the sentence there,
No one hands the pass.

It’s hellfire,
Where you burn alive,
And terrible stench
By day and night alike.

The corpse of the old world
Only fits the screen.
Even the lyre will die—
Here’s the very bottom,

Where all is vanity,
Torment,
Void:

Vanity of effort,
Torment of meaning,
Then helplessness,
Horror, void.

Where all is nonsense: poet — not poet,
Artist, writer, or not.
Where no one cares for years
About reason, honor, or the trace

The trace we leave
With a pen on water.
Better to add
Gasoline to the fire—

A fire that burns down
The lying world—
Spawn of evil,
Idol of fools.

This is not false,
Nor the pain of fools,
But logical conclusion
When you go all the way

To knowing hell,
That since long ago
Instead of paradise garden
Has been embodied here,

Where all is vanity,
Torment,
Void:

Vanity of effort,
Torment of meaning,
Then helplessness,
Horror, void.

Where is all this art,
When fascism’s at the door?!
Everyone lies numb,
Each in their warm den.

They come out only
To sing odes.
They’re not madmen,
To die

For a righteous cause,
For memory of grandfathers
Who boldly smashed
Enemies

In that hell of vanity,
Torment,
Void:

Vanity of effort,
Torment of meaning,
Then helplessness,
Horror, void.



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



Art

Dedicated to poets and composers
Who spit heroic snot
Only on dusted pages,
Ghosts of battles lost and gone.

What is art?
Just staged theatrics—
Empty dramas,
Poems dead without confession.

They’re vanity’s spit,
Wailing banshee cries,
A hollow drum:

Vanity of wasted fight,
Torment of hollow sense,
Weakness wrapped in labels,
Rhythms void, no defense.

Just snot on the path
Of hollow quests.
Harder to reach the edge
Of deeper, rawer truths.

Not poems, not rapture,
But cliff’s last breath and fall.
No pardons for the daring—
No one answers the call.

It’s hellfire’s scorch,
Where flesh melts slow,
A stench that crawls
Both night and day below.

The corpse of a dead world
Fits only on the screen.
Even lyres will crack—
Here lies the abyss, obscene,

Where all is vanity,
Wailing,
Void:

Vanity of wasted fight,
Torment of hollow sense,
Then helplessness,
Dark horror, void.

Where fools masquerade as poets,
Artists or not,
Where honor’s dead—
The mind forgot,

The trace we leave
Is ink on water—
Better pour gasoline
On a burning slaughter—

A fire that razes
This world of lies—
Spawn of pure evil,
Fools’ idolize.

This isn’t lies,
Nor childish pain,
But cold logic’s knife
When you bleed the whole way

Into hell’s own heart,
Where paradise died long ago—
Here, rot and venom
In endless flow,

Where all is vanity,
Wailing,
Void:

Vanity of wasted fight,
Torment of hollow sense,
Then helplessness,
Dark horror, void.

Where is your art now,
When fascists knock hard?
Everyone’s numb,
Huddled in their yards.

They crawl out just to chant
Empty odes.
Not mad enough
To die for roads

Where grandfathers smashed
Foes in hell’s glare—
This hell of vanity,
Wailing,
Void:

Vanity of wasted fight,
Torment of hollow sense,
Then helplessness,
Dark horror, void.



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



Art — The Brutal Truth

Art’s just snot on dead men’s graves,
Heroic lies from hollow slaves.
Poems? No — empty, void and fake,
Vanity’s cruel, ruthless quake.

Fire burns the world’s corpse cold,
Truth’s a blade, sharp and bold.
Fools worship idols made of slime,
Dancing in hell’s black grime.

No mercy here, no saving light,
Only darkness swallows night.
Fascists laugh — the herd’s asleep,
While souls rot fast and deep.

Rise or drown in filth and rust,
Art dies in a world unjust.
Fight the void, break through the lies—
Or fade with all your silent cries.



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



Art Is Dead

Art’s just snot on dead men’s graves.
Empty noise, vain fools’ plays.

Fire burns the world’s false skin,
Fools bow down to death’s grin.

No savior comes, just lies,
Hell swallows all the wise.

Fight or rot — choose your part,
Art is dead — ignite your heart.



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



Art Is Dead

Art’s just snot on dead men’s graves,
A serpent’s hiss in hollow caves.

Empty noise, vain fools’ charade,
Ashes blow where heroes fade.

Fire burns the world’s false skin,
Fools bow down to death’s cold grin.

No savior comes, just poison lies,
Hell’s black claws tear the wise.

Fight or rot — choose your part,
Art is dead — ignite your heart.



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



No saviors here—just wolves in suits,
Feeding on ashes, tearing roots.
Their “wisdom” stinks like rotted graves,
While freedom sinks in endless waves.

So burn it down—the fake, the lies,
Let truth ignite in crimson skies.
No more chains, no dull disguise—
From ruins, real souls will arise.



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



Propaganda

It used to be bad —
Now it’s supposed to be good!
Propaganda for suckers
Feeds them chicken **** for food.

Once we had pure slavery,
Now it’s “democrazy”’s face.
But it’s all deception —
Fascism’s just replaced.

Slavery couldn’t get worse,
Stupidity’s disgrace —
Five instead of failure,
Spirit barely a trace.

Honor’s trampled everywhere,
Conscience long is dead.
We turned into beasts
Under pressure, full of dread.

All these troubles are fake —
A cold genocide.
Only masters of lies here—
Reason’s deep asleep inside.

Lies pour out unceasing —
Drowning everything whole.
And as a “rest” they offer
Pop distractions for the soul.

Nothing left unspoken —
Anchors voice the script.
The “predictors” rule here,
The rest lie, tight-lipped.

It’s a global madhouse now,
Words promise paradise.
But souls are killed in silence —
Quietly, pay the price.

Yet this endless falsehood
Always hides one key:
If you don’t sell your soul,
The years left are few to see.

The sun shines hotter now —
That’s Armageddon’s sign.
It’ll burn all these fleas away —
Their spirits will resign.



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



Propaganda

It was hell before —
Now they sell it as heaven!
Propaganda for suckers —
Chicken **** in every sentence.

Slavery’s old chains —
Now it’s “demo-fascist” lies.
Same ***** game, new name —
Fascism in disguise.

Slavery’s shame can’t get worse,
Stupidity’s a crime.
Replacing failure with five,
Killing spirit every time.

Honor’s buried deep,
Conscience ripped apart.
We’ve turned into animals,
Crushed souls, broken hearts.

All the pain is fake —
Just a genocide scheme.
Masters of deceit laugh loud,
While reason’s dead, it seems.

Lies flood like poison gas —
Smother everything whole.
As “relaxation” serves
Pop’s shallow black hole.

Nothing left unvoiced —
Anchors chant their lies.
“Predictors” run the show —
Truth’s been crucified.

A global madhouse rages —
Words promise false skies.
Souls murdered in silence —
Quiet death in disguise.

But the biggest lie hides one truth:
If you keep your soul intact,
Your time is running out —
The end’s a burning fact.

The sun scorches hard —
Armageddon’s cruel flame.
It’ll burn out the vermin —
Leave only spirit’s name.



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



Propaganda

Hell was truth —
Now lies sell as light.
Suckers fed chicken ****,
Blinded day and night.

Slavery reborn,
Dressed in fascist lies.
Honor buried deep —
Souls crucified.

Stupidity’s a crime,
Spirit’s shot dead.
Genocide by lies —
Reason’s hanging thread.

Lies choke, no breath,
Pop’s dumb escape.
Truth silenced, drowned,
Souls left to break.

World’s madhouse roars —
False heaven’s smoke.
Keep your soul?
Armageddon’s choke.

Sun scorches vermin —
Burns the weak and vile.
Spirit’s flame survives —
Hell ends in fire.



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



PROPAGANDA RAP // “HELL IN CAPSLOCK”

Yo —
Truth is dead, lies on the throne,
Feeding you filth like a dog with a bone.
Chicken-**** slogans, media drone —
Welcome to Hell, just scroll on your phone.

Freedom's a brand, wrapped in decay,
Fascist chic in a democratic spray.
Think you're awake? You're just in the play —
Lines are fed, you bark on delay.

Reason’s hung, truth got stabbed,
Spirit’s buried, brain’s been nabbed.
Pop drugs your head while souls get grabbed,
This ain't a system — it's a slaughter lab.

New god’s a screen, priest is a cop,
Pills in your gut, death in a pop.
This ain’t peace — it’s a soul-shop,
Prophets in suits, blood on top.

Heaven’s fake, but Hell is near,
Sun burns louder, crystal clear.
If you still got soul — shift outta gear,
'Cause fire is coming… and it won’t veer.
The Yoke of “Freedom”

"We'll cast off the shackles of freedom and the yoke of democracy."
— Vladimir Polyakov


The yoke of “freedom” — dreams turned fiction,
A trap of hope, a blinding mist,
From BEASTS we learned our shallow diction —
And sank below the blackest abyss.

No, that fake yoke will not be lifted —
“Improve the world”? The cost was steep:
Fascistic filth now rules, uplifted,
And drags us down to herded sheep.

The “minds” of dulled and drooling masses —
This world’s long turned a freak parade.
Each day, more twisted horror passes —
It's time to pierce the deeper shade.

That second floor of lies from BEASTS —
A doctrine soaked in veiled Hell-fire.
The mob sees not the Satan’s feast
Behind the Mask they all admire.

We’ll pierce it through — and fall, forsaken,
To deepest Hell — as well we should.
For now, the global camp is taken
By savage Evil, building good.



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




A yoke called “freedom” crushed the mind —
And dragged the world to sheep and slime.



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



The Boredom of Pseudo-Life

Life is dull — it’s no illusion:
This world’s a fake, a grim delusion.
The Realms of Spirit hold the key —
Hints, not orders, set you free.

Commands and “wise” advice are chains,
Spawned by darkness, soaked in stains.
Heed them — rot will soon begin,
And **** your soul from deep within.

A mind without the Spirit? — Hell.
That’s why the world’s a fascist shell.
God’s spark was sold by fools and knaves
For wallets, gadgets, gold — as slaves.

"Just fine!" — the brute declares with pride,
As dumbness spreads, and truth has died.
"Normal" now is mental rot —
Thanks to Satan’s stealthy plot.

Among such fools, joy’s out of reach.
Their numbers grow — they yell, they screech,
And fuel the fascist brute parade
With every shove and block and blade.

They’re gray as mold, a mindless swarm —
Shoving elbows, buying form,
Crowding aisles, consuming lies,
Blindly marching toward new cries

Of Hell ahead — it’s almost here.
This grayness — worse than sulfur fear.
Don’t walk that path with empty eyes —
Just trust your soul, where wisdom lies.



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




“Normal” now is dumb and dead —
The soul is starved, the mind is led.



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



The Commissariat of Sold-Out Verse
(after Bulat Okudzhava's “Commissars in Dusty Helmets”)

"Commissars in dusty helmets" —
Okudzhava missed the mark.
Truth gets twisted into velvet
When you skip the slaughter's dark.

Commissars had shot his kin —
All of them. A ******* crime.
Yet he sang of jails within,
As if rot deserved a rhyme.

To that vile, demented system
Swarmed the ****-ups, proud and loud.
Only slaves would dare assist 'em,
Printing filth to please the crowd.

Went to layout like to slaughter,
Selling soul for lines of shame.
While the honest ones — no quarter —
Tore their shirts but spoke no name.

Commissars in dusty cover
Broke the country, crushed the land.
Those who dared to cry or stutter
Died like rebels — hand in hand.

Now the filth is even fouler —
Worse than them — so rise and fight!
Let your verses mark the howlers,
Sting the traitors out of sight.

Let the verse erupt and sear —
For when fascism masks as “love,”
Poets bleed instead of cheer,
Smearing ink with sacred stuff.

This’s the only path to take
If the End of Times has come:
Stop the sugar, stop the fake —
Write against the marching ****!



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




When verse obeys — the soul is dead.
Real poems fight the lies instead.



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



Answers Without a Question

Immaculate conception?
Just like budding in a jar.
Faith in nonsense breeds deception —
Flood them deep and rule by far.

Drown them in a sweet illusion,
“Sanctify” it with a lie.
Then destroy — through mass confusion —
Mind and Spirit, Truth and Pride.

Use a priestly horde to spread it,
Bolder lies and thicker fog.
Truth will softly call — but let it
Reach the Soul like distant log.

Truth speaks gently, never shouting.
You must seek it, heart in hand.
But the herds are kept from doubting
By a roar they understand:

Wild-eyed sermons, empty phrases,
Words that mimic human speech.
Truth escapes those stable mazes —
Only hearts and minds can reach.

Thinking sharp, not blind believing,
No examples, no "because" —
This alone resists deceiving.
This is how you fight the claws.

All’s within — so why a preacher?
Only business needs a “guide.”
Every pulpit-seller teacher
Is a crook in holy hide.

Intuition, inner sensing,
Critical, creative thought —
These are answers worth commencing.
Ask the question you have brought.



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




Truth is quiet. Lies parade.
Ask your question — unafraid.



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



Outer Goals — The Root of Fools and Control

The light’s within — the fog is outer.
The deeper fog, the darker night.
The world, my friend, is full of doubters —
Find their truths — and lose the Light.

A goal “out there” is mass production
Of mindless fools and marching meat.
They just tweak the goal’s construction —
Same old chains, but now “elite.”

True goal’s within, not in the rubble
Of worldly junk and rotting lies.
Creation’s spark, not learned-through-trouble,
Is where real, knowing power lies.

A goal in “future” is deception,
Crowd control in sleek disguise.
Didn’t reach it? New direction! —
Feed the sick with fresher lies.



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




Outer goals — control the head.
Truth is here, not in what’s said.



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



The Goal Within

The Light is quiet, glowing inward.
Outside — a fog that thickens fast.
The mind gets lost in shifting forward,
And Truth is veiled as shadows pass.

The world feeds lies in gilded wrapping —
A friend, beware the outer chase.
Each "noble aim" is just entrapment —
It steals the Light, it dims your grace.

To chase what’s “next” is mass illusion,
A tool to herd, a game of chains.
They shift the goal — it breeds confusion,
And binds the soul in silent pains.

But in the core, beneath the clutter,
Where matter bends to Spirit’s gaze,
The pulse of Knowing starts to flutter —
No future there, no worldly praise.

No preacher there, no map, no measure,
Just presence — clear, alive, and still.
Not reaching out, but holding treasure
The outer world can’t touch or ****.



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




The Light is here — don’t chase the mist.
The goal’s within... and it just is.



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



No Goal, No Fog

No goal to seek.
No path to win.
The fog is loud —
But Light is in.

Don’t chase the form,
Don’t trust the flame.
What shifts and moves
Will shift to shame.

Be still. Unfold.
No future here.
The Now is vast.
The Heart is clear.



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



Ash of Purpose

No goal. Just ash.
The dream is thin.
You chase the fog —
It pulls you in.

No path remains.
No hand, no guide.
The Light you were —
You left outside.

The future speaks —
It always lies.
It feeds the weak
And blinds the wise.

So sit in dark.
Let all things fall.
The One that stays
Is none at all.



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



Zero

Not light.
Not dark.
Not fire.
Not spark.

No self.
No name.
No breath.
No flame.

No goal.
No fear.
No sound.
No here.

No past.
No start.
Just Void —
and Heart.


---

After Zero

No word —
but pulse.
No flame —
but glow.

No edge —
just space.
No “where” —
but flow.

No “I” —
just this:
a breathless
yes.

It moves
but still.
It knows —
but will?

No need.
No plan.
Just Light
began.



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



Creating Dead Souls with Fear and Lies

With fear of death, they breed the dead—
Believe propaganda’s lies,
And you’ll become a numb misled,
A fool beneath god’s disguise.

They spin their scary tales around,
You swallow all the foolish fear,
Become a coward, dumb and bound,
A puppet trapped in darkened gear.

Once caught inside this deadlocked spin,
Only fear remains to reign,
The mind shrinks small, worn thin within,
The soul dissolves in choking pain.

With broken spirit, all is lost—
The world is canned, rights sold and sealed.
This “citizen” pays the cost
In fake lands where truths are peeled.

CowID showed the Great ***’s face—
He rules through filth and vile ****.
Spreading chaos, lawless space,
Where evil grows and rules become.

The world beneath satan’s throne—
No hope, no future left to see.
When fools infect the masses’ bone,
Humanity fades utterly.

Fear plus folly, now no man—
Just nonsense crowds, dead souls’ domain.



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




Fear breeds dead; lies keep them chained—
No soul remains, just fools retained.



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



True Art

Invite the pain, the fear,
Transform them, forge them strong —
For freedom’s sake, not for the drear
Of fools who play along.

Will you find Light?
Unlikely, friend...
Will you break the blight?
Somewhere near the end.

They’ll write their songs, their lies,
Respond: “Give up the fight!”
But don’t you fall for their disguise,
Hold fast your will and might.

Though toiling “in the drawer,”
Though honor pays no toll,
Don’t trade your fire for shallow roar
Of crowds who clutch control.

So dare! Though vain the grind,
Though hardship chains your path,
For liars rule the blinded mind —
Condemning honest wrath.

The truthful now are rare and few,
Dull pride has taken throne.
In fake art’s stench, the rotten brew
Drowns reason, chills the bone.

Like public pleasuring,
The putrid feelings reign.
Fascism stalks, the decent mute —
Or scribble all in vain.

With zero reach, you slave like ox,
In dark, forsaken pits.
Yet still your soul will break the locks —
True words ignite the blitz.

Among the kneeling, fallen ranks,
The Creators’ spirits rise —
Their genuine, earth-shattering thanks
Shatter the falsehood’s lies.



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




True art bleeds pain, not empty cheers —
It fights alone, but conquers fears.



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



Pseudoscience, Media, and Sold-Out “Culture”

The samples fixed —
“Commissioned” reigns supreme.
Degrees achieved,
But monsters rule the scheme.

Orders flood from foulest lair,
Like plagues that spread in endless tide.
False diseases — viral scare —
They launched a test stone far and wide.

CowID fools command the game,
Masters of deceit and fear.
Pseudoscience, ashes — shame,
Decay grows far and near.

The same decay infects “culture” too,
Though literature seems less oppressed.
Yet devils push their flamed debut,
While honest work’s depressed.

No money — just a worthless shell,
In lying lands, a ghost unseen.
“Vatniks” praised in hellish hell,
The monsters’ “Pecheneg” machine.

“Strongholds,” “Rise up from your knees!” —
They march you straight to slaughter’s door.
Truth’s voices squeak midst howling seas,
Censorship strikes silence more.

No new age — just darkest blight,
The sellouts howl, the media’s flood.
Infernal world sinks out of sight,
A bottomless pit of blood.



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




Lies spread fast — the fools obey,
The world decays in shadow’s sway.



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



Pseudoscience, Media ******, and Bought-Out “Culture”

Samples rigged — the fix is in.
Paid-for lies run deep and wide.
Degrees? Just masks for filthy sin —
Monsters in the world now ride.

Orders flood from devil’s pit,
Plagues of fake disease unleashed.
False AIDS tests? They threw a fit,
CowID fools have lied and fleeced.

Fear and lies — their cruel dominion.
Pseudoscience rots to dust.
Decay spreads fast — no redemption,
Truth’s crushed bones lie in the rust.

Same decay invades “culture” —
Though lit looks less consumed by grime.
But devils hype their ***** vulture,
While honest work’s a crime.

No cash — just wrappers, worthless ****.
In lies’ swamp, you’re ghost and waste.
“Vatnik” trash rules every bit —
Monsters feast in savage haste.

“Stand up!” they scream — to slaughter’s field,
Where truth’s a squeak drowned by the wolf.
Censorship’s a steel-clad shield,
Silencing all honest proof.

No bright dawn — just blind damnation.
Sellouts howl through total lies.
This world’s a pit, an abomination —
Infernal hell beneath black skies.



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




Lies feed fools — truth’s on the run,
The world’s a pit, no light, no sun.



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



Pseudoscience “Experiments”

"To defend a theory,
One can conduct enough research."
— Arthur Bloch, Murphy’s Law

"The more knowledge,
The deeper the ignorance."
— Buddhist Saying


The “scientist” works tireless,
To prove his sacred creed:
He runs “experiments” ceaseless,
Rejects what breaks his feed.

Facts and tests that don’t align
Become “artifacts” at best.
Thousands warp the grand design —
A rotten, false contest.

Built to serve some dark agenda,
Foreign to true knowing’s light.
Cash and lies fuel the propaganda,
Just to cloak the wrong and blight.

The world’s trapped deep in madness —
“Science” wiped the soul away.
Logic cramps the mind’s gladness,
Without intuition’s sway.

Dry reason without feeling
Leads the self to slow decay.
“Just prove that nonsense, no big deal!” —
The fool believes the play.

Direct Vision — mind’s true core,
Healthy psyche’s shining base.
“Science” hunts that truth once more —
To sink it to disgrace.

We’re at the bottom, sinking fast,
Science’s tank runs dry below.
Its echoes keep us trapped, aghast,
Like sea cucumbers, minds won’t grow.

When you buy their lies in whole,
Killing your intuitive spark,
You open evil’s door to soul,
And plunge into the dark.

More “knowledge” means more ignorance —
Remember well this bitter song.
Pseudoscience leads the dance,
To the madhouse all along.

Two thirds of earth’s locked in the cage,
Believing “science” lies and games.
Is “science” just an axe and rage,
To hack the living soul in flames?

“Science” forged by soulless fiends,
For evil’s simple, cruel demand.
They need dull slaves with cracked-up minds,
With “knowledge” hammered, not to stand.



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




More “science,” more the dark unknown —
Pseudoknowledge kills the soul alone.



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



Worthy...

"Worthy above all —
To not let those who give out favors
Drive you to the stall,
Or shut your mouth with hay."
— Yevgeny Yevtushenko, 1976


Worthy — even if all’s a wreck,
Sometimes the only way is death.
If chances fail, then die unchecked —
For “living” means to lose your breath.

Only death can purge the flood
Of filth that floods your weary mind.
The Beast through ages breeds its mud —
A mockery of soul confined.

Suicide’s a coward’s game —
Die fighting if you’ve got the might.
You cannot crush the World’s own shame —
This chaos is the “law” of night.

But only by the fight alone
Can you your spirit hope to save.
We all dream crowns — but stand alone,
Not heralds, not the brave.

So “dance away from fire’s glow” —
That’s how the battle’s truly won.
Be but a bad forerunner’s show —
And fate of slaves you’ll overrun.

Slavery and dullness reign —
A poison foul, unfit for men.
Create, resist — let not the stain
Of wretchedness consume your ken.

**** every fear — it’s late to scare,
Armageddon’s world awaits.
It comes with wrath, a grim affair —
We stand within the End of Dates.

The Sun shines stronger, magma flows
Beneath Antarctic’s frozen crust.
The world — spawn of Marasmus — grows
Drowned in the Beast’s relentless lust.

Fight Evil worthily, with calm,
Meet your poor fate with steady heart.
Your choice: fake plagues, or war’s alarm —
Or Cataclysm’s fresh start.



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




Worthy fight, though all decays —
Choose your end, and not the haze.



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



Mocking Troops, or False Reasons to Not Fight Evil

Marines for sport —
The real foes lie within.
Those beasts hold court,
Their victories are grim.

Don’t fool yourself — you don’t feel
The filth you thrash inside.
You "justify" the seal,
Diving deep in lies’ tide.

They teach those “foundations”
Since cradle to the dumb.
The fools flock to stations —
To cops and troops they come.

Men join communes —
A new fight’s born this way.
But fools swarm like ruins —
Slaves stuck in decay.

It’s time to unite
With minds that still can see —
Or sink into the blight
Of rat holes endlessly.

Rat holes, not rabbit dens —
A stupid world confined.
All “ideas” chain the lens —
Slavery’s harsh bind.

The end is coming — cataclysms
Will wipe this fake world clean.
But for fascism’s schisms,
The sheep still play the scene.



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




Troops for show, fools abound,
Rats will sink this sinking ground.



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



The “Sailors” Have No Questions...

The **** have lost all questions;
The fools have killed the light —
Their Honor, Conscience, Soul,
Drowned in verbal spite.

A flood of words —
Dark forces scream and crow.
No questions left — just lies,
Commands that never show.

The world’s last song is sung,
Its end is set, not free.



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



Pharisee’s Odyssey

Bend yourself much deeper still,
Lie more stupid, lie with spite,
Be the cruel to weak at will —
That’s the way to win the fight.

No need to roam or stray afar —
You’ll fit right in where villains dwell,
If you become a selling scar,
Forgetting honor, truth, and hell.



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



Questions Without Answers

Is there a lyre inside the latrine?
Is wisdom needed ‘midst the fools?
Is this a den, a humble scene,
Or just a chain that binds and rules?

Chains of lies, submission, fear,
Of treachery and twilight mind.
Is this the world — a scaffold near,
Or heaps of filth for us to find?



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



View from Hell, or Another Armageddon

Pol *** waits not —
No place in Hell.
A wretched mob,
For beasts, their hell.

Building here
A New Inferno.
The fool cheers:
“All for peace, you know!”

Protective lies,
The creatures preach.
All calm and smooth —
In False Land’s reach.

One “Pol ***”
We always hear.
Fascism walks —
Lies sharp and clear.

The pitiful crowd
Listens quick.
Soon only wise
Will face the wick.

Obedient to Darkness,
They profit well,
While dust in noose
Keeps burning hell.

From Hell to Hell —
A world’s bleak road.
Corrupt fiends,
Abundant load.

Not Pol *** —
Much worse they be.
Darkness descends
Through them, you see.

The people burned
Like ****** sheets,
Calling evil
“Good” with deceit.

That Darkness half
Has crushed the spine
Of “peoples” — or
Are monsters in line?

Like wheels of grief,
No end in sight.
We wait again
For doom’s dark night.

Armageddon looms —
Hell’s paradise —
The final fall,
The coldest ice.



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




Hell builds hell, the fools obey,
Another end, another day.



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



From Hell’s Eye, Another Armageddon

Pol *** waits not — no room below,
In Hell where shadows coil and flow.
A pitiful herd, dark spirits’ dough,
The forge of beasts, their world of woe.

They build anew the fiery gate,
A New Abyss, a cursed fate.
The fool rejoices, deaf to hate:
“All for peace,” their poisoned bait.

Whispers veil the silent grave,
False calm in lies the darkness gave.
In False Land’s maze, the lost enslave,
One voice: “Pol ***,” the reaper’s stave.

Fascism breathes, a roaring flame,
Striking lies in endless game.
The herd obeys without a name,
Only wise shall face the blame.

Bound to Night’s eternal claim,
They profit while the embers maim.
Dust in noose, the burning frame,
From Hell to Hell — the cycle’s same.

Not Pol ***’s shadow, darker still,
Through cursed veins, the darkness spills.
The people scorched on broken hills,
Call evil good, the lie distills.

Half the dark has bowed the spine
Of “peoples” lost, or monsters’ line?
Wheels of sorrow, endless twine —
We wait the final, cold design.

Armageddon’s breath draws near,
Hell’s embrace, both dread and seer.
The end unfolds without a tear —
A sacred death, a timeless sphere.



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




From depths of Hell, the shadows rise —
The final dawn in darkened skies.



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



Into the New Hell...

Staged performances—
A fabricated little world.
Only lies make it so dense,
Its time draws near, unfurled.

The point of no return long passed—
Into the NEW HELL we go.
The **** were ready, standing fast,
Glad for crumbs in shadow’s glow.

Into the New Hell — debts unpaid—
It’s just beyond the rise.
Once thieves alone, now fascist made,
A hero in disguise.

A bureaucrat, a tyrant’s hand,
A wicked propaganda mouth,
A teacher rotting souls like sand,
A doctor sold to south.

The Earth’s Kunstkamera,
Save rare few escape the gloom—
All march inside this prison bar,
While paradise’s myths
Are for donkeys’ doom.



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




New Hell waits — no debts to pay,
Fascists lead, thieves fade away.



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



The Pit of the World

"And so this street,
Or rather, this pit
Is named for
That Mandelstam..."
— Osip Mandelstam, “Mandelstam Street,” 1935


Mandelstam! The PIT! Oh, Mother,
Don’t bear children into Hell:
To call things straight — three quarters
Of the world’s a den of hell.

Among the beasts, the Pure at Heart —
Like Osip’s shining Light —
Perish, nowhere to depart,
Beneath the brute’s harsh blight.

The brute will call white soot black,
And poets evil foes;
The beasts will rise in vicious pack —
To jail or madhouse goes.

They shot Gumilyov down,
Said: “Serves him right,” no shame.
Fools sunk low beneath the crown
Of TOTAL lying’s flame.

And Marina Tsvetaeva —
They crushed her to the noose.
If here the beast is led from man —
Stay silent, lie — abuse!

Mandelstam’s pit? Exactly:
A world that bows to Evil’s throne!
Be wise and stubborn, act exactly —
Create, defy that groan.

Mousetraps with rotten cheese —
The fools’ “good” they prize so much.
Be lone, if your mind’s at ease —
Among beasts, you’ll lose your touch.



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




Mandelstam’s pit — a world in chains,
Create, resist — break Evil’s reins.



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



In the Mousetrap

Nature’s more complex than “pure logic,”
Math’s cold rules don’t always fit.
Pedagogy drives the crooked spike
Into minds, to dull their wit.

The builder—cruel—commands the build
Of World’s dark Fortress of Evil.
The “scientist” speeds up the drill,
“Proving” what fools find feasible.

“Proof” misses spiritual flows—
To donkeys, the world’s quite plain.
The beasts, through media’s loud throes,
Preach the free cheese — a poisoned gain.

All mousetraps—fictitious lands—
A pen for fools, a herded crowd.
Another metaphor — sheep at hand,
Led to slaughter ’neath goat’s loud shroud.

The worst revealed by CowID —
A world a spawn of Evil’s might.
Ruled by beasts, and traitors feed
The goat’s commands to blind sheep’s plight.

The World’s Great Goat, Satan’s face,
Set false science’s wheels in motion.
In slaves’ minds, chains of disgrace—
Proofs fool’s faith, a blind devotion.

Idiocy’s no random fate —
Stupidity’s plague, worldwide spread.
Beasts control through slow decay,
A herd of cattle, numb and dead.

Their goal: to turn men into beasts,
Erase what’s human in the soul,
Make simple all — without a feast —
A digital collar, a control.

To the World’s Concentration Camp,
Sheep led on by programmed score.
AI rewards in cruel stamp—
A shame upon Earth’s core.

Construction plans face doom ahead,
A vile Cataclysm will sweep.
While Lies’ Ocean floods instead,
Foul fascism crawls and creeps.



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




Trapped in lies, the herd obeys,
Digital chains seal all our days.



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



Within the Mousetrap

Nature’s threads—far beyond cold logic’s grip,
Mathematics fails to bind the spirit’s flow.
Pedagogy drives nails that choke the mind’s bright ship,
A twisted forge where sterile shadows grow.

The builder vile commands the darkened spire,
Raising walls of the World’s Eternal Hell.
The “scholar” quickens lies’ relentless fire—
Proofs forged to bind the donkey’s spell.

Spirit’s currents pass the “proof” unseen,
To fools, the world’s a flat, dull stone.
Through media’s whisper, the beast’s machine
Sings of free cheese—an abyss unknown.

Mousetraps lie in phantom lands afar—
Pens for sheep, a march to doom.
Goats shout loud, the final war—
The flock moves blind toward their tomb.

CowID’s veil reveals the cursed ground,
A spawn of darkness, ruled by fiends.
Beasts command, and traitors bound,
The goat’s dark will in silent means.

The Great Goat, Satan’s hidden face,
Set false science’s sacred rites.
Chains of ignorance enslave the race,
In shadows cast from endless nights.

Stupidity’s a sacred blight,
Spread like plague through mortal clay.
Decay’s throne rules out of sight—
Beasts herd men who lose their way.

The last design: to break the soul,
Erase the light, impose the bind.
A digital collar takes its toll,
The cage for heart and mind confined.

To the World’s cold camp they lead,
Sheep numbered, marked, and scored.
AI feeds the hunger’s greed—
The Earth’s lament ignored.

But soon the Cataclysm’s breath
Will sweep the cursed plans away.
Till then, the Ocean’s flood of death
Drowns hope beneath the grey.



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




Shadows weave a silent snare,
Souls confined in dark despair.



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



Moments of Decay

"I remember a wondrous moment:
Before me you appeared,
Like a fleeting vision,
Like a genius of pure beauty."
— A. Pushkin, “To *,” 1825


No need to seek those wondrous times,
Or guard them like a holy spell.
The ascetic walks rough paths and climbs —
Decay’s around, a stench of hell.

You’ll always fail, when passions reign,
Forgetting reason, “being’s” core.
Live through the PAIN, endure the strain —
Don’t rot and crawl in putrid gore.

Decay is everywhere, each breath
Is tinged with rot’s unholy scent.
Only Creation cheats slow death,
If madness' prison’s not consent.

The madhouse world — CowID
Revealed the dull fascist scream.
Three quarters in this rotten sea
Are **** that sell the broken dream.

Love’s a fetish, often doll —
No human there, just empty shell.
In greed and lust the spirits fall,
Dark holes in “consciousness” dwell.

Remember that wondrous flash,
When inward you retreat alone;
Where rot and nonsense fail to lash,
If still the Spirit burns like stone.

Legions of soulless beasts abound,
Stupidity—a plague that spreads.
Megatons of lies surround—
Shield not your head; disease embeds.

You’ll fall ill, like many do—
Idiots now the majority.
Warrior propagandists brew
Demons led by Goat’s decree.

The beasts grow wild, their madness deep—
A sign the End is drawing near.
Yet total lies still make fools leap—
Blind led by one who’s lame and queer.

That “distant” path ends in a cliff—
Where all the rot will be laid bare.
But all is “fine” in false belief—
Moments of “joy,” illusions rare...



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




Decay’s all around, rot in the air,
Spirit burns — if you still dare.



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



Endless, Boundless Despair

"O spring without end, without bound—
Endless, boundless dream!
I recognize you, life! I’m found!
And hail you with shield’s gleam!"
— Alexander Blok, 1907


O boundless, endless, aching woe,
Endless, boundless grief and pain:
In hopeless depths I fade and go,
So weary of the slave’s cruel chain.

Since youth, I’ve scorned the labels pinned—
“Freedom here”—I send them all to hell.
Only pain and weariness have sinned,
Passed down by beasts whose souls fell.

Poverty, a legacy of ache,
Passed on through every slavish frame.
No hope for Reason’s dawn to break—
This world is sick, and none to blame.

Madness handed down through years,
To new generations it is sworn.
With fear and pain, the seed appears—
The many lost, the fools are born.

O boundless, endless misery...
Only Cataclysm may disperse,
But not a path to paradise—
A New Hell comes for fascist curse.

A few may pass to realms apart,
Unchained, unbound, fierce in fight,
Free from Hell’s deceiving art,
Defiant in eternal light.

True freedom lies beyond the lies,
The fruit of struggle long endured.
But fools, too blind to recognize,
Reject all truth, forever lured.

Such freedom dwells in minds of few—
A doomed world clings to rot and spite.
Tortures go on, though time is few,
To strain the mind in endless night.

And boundless, endless sorrow guards
The rage of Darkness, deep and cold:
Now only pain can keep the shards—
In lies, the beasts control the bold.



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




Endless grief, the spirit’s fight,
Few are free within the night.



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



Marching in a Howl...

Idiots know—the Führer’s best.
Idiots trust—he’ll save the rest:
With just a glance, he’ll crush the foes,
Blow every storm with mighty blows.

Idiots march in rigid line,
To crush the enemy’s design.
Propaganda’s howl, like whip,
Drives them on—no chance to slip.



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



Science Madness

The stubborn way they mock and scorn
Life’s riddles deep and vast —
Is but a sieve that filters scorn,
“Science” lies from first to last.

In name of saving reason’s flame,
They smother all the strange,
The irrational, the same
That makes fake science change.

Their logic’s warped beyond all bounds
Where miracles draw near,
Not trivial things, but sacred grounds
They crush with scoffing sneer.

There’re countless such examples told,
But this is not their tale:
In minds corrupt and spirit cold
Beliefs doomed to fail.

Only fools will trust the lies
Of orders pre-designed,
The bogus science’s disguise—
Rot that’s long declined.

Rot where spirit’s scorned and crushed,
Pure soul dismissed as fake;
Their leader, horned and foul and hushed,
Small souls he loves to break.

Master, corrupter, priest of lies,
Science’s dark facade,
Tempts with his deceiving guise—
Drags all to death’s façade.

The CowID’s wicked game
Dragged fools into the pen.
No doubt—the lies give power’s name
To warped and twisted men.

“Scientific” freaks and fiends,
And propaganda’s roar,
Will bring us down by evil means,
While spirit’s gone before.

They purge the soul, their only aim—
Science as executioner.
From every place, this wicked game
Was planned by sinister cur.

The mystery of life’s true light
They’ve turned to slime and fear.
And those who bear God’s spark so bright—
Are slugged and dragged down here.

All gray and bleak, the final cost—
Darkness’ ruthless attack.
Fake science launches every shot
To keep the world off track.

Those ******* sell their poisoned lies,
Our enemies in kind.
But reckoning shall surely rise,
When soul leads mind.

Mad science madness fades away—
A sickness, stale and vile,
And reason’s light shall claim the day,
Free from that dreadful trial.



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



Personality

“A question hangs: does true self exist,
Or just a mass of conditioned twists?”
— Jiddu Krishnamurti’s voice insists.


A nested doll, all cracked and worn,
Paint running off, truth torn,
Lies overflow, with poison born,
Darkness feeds this world forlorn.

Under pressure of deceit,
They **** the mind with fear’s deceit—
Since childhood trapped in dread’s defeat,
Crunch-crunch, the lies repeat.

They prize submission’s empty claim—
Consume the rot, remain the same.
Feed your fears, then bear the blame,
Become dull, a dim-lit flame.

They piece together you and me
Like matryoshkas endlessly—
Schizophrenia’s layered spree,
A tangled mass, a misery.

It spreads so fast—a chaotic stew,
Seeming solid, yet untrue.
Nothing whole inside for you,
Unless pure Spirit holds it through.

No lie or full and selfish gut
Can bind the shards, the shattered cut.
Today from filth they mold anew—
Fascism’s cups are filling through.

Drink deep, drown out your soul’s own cry,
They give it free—just sip and die.
Blood drunk down, the spirit’s sigh—
Killed gently under painted sky.

No need to ****, just keep the peace—
Silence builds the foul increase.
Become a worm, the rot’s release,
While propaganda’s howls never cease.

Lies fall heavy, never slight,
In these last days, a fading light.
Fascist Hell looms in the night,
Soon shattered, skies regain their height.

Cleansed by cataclysm’s harsh hand,
This shameful Hell, this cursed land,
Branded fascism, vile and grand—
Few escape its grasp or stand.

Strengthen Spirit, hold the flame—
Only thus you’ll break the chain.
Cataclysm’s no myth, no game—
It’s coming soon to cleanse the pain.



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



Men and Rodents

Here tiny men gnaw at crumbs —
Each other’s scraps, their petty sums.
Minds so poor, a chaos thrums,
A maddened mess where madness drums.

**** reigns supreme, the traitor’s king,
While worthy souls have lost their wing.
Stupidity’s a rock that clings,
Unyielding, crushing all bright things.

From coal to diamond through the years,
Yet dullness breeds and feeds on fears.
In jungle dark, the talent clears —
But bends to **** and disappears.

If to the filth you bow your head,
Forget the Light you once had led,
You’ll rot in muck — the cursed bed,
Where all the world’s lost hope is fed.

Patience of freaks, their dull disgrace —
A monstrous, ever-growing plague.
So many madmen fill this place,
Darkness thrives and wins the race.

Total chaos, boundless fools,
War’s bloodless now, no ****** pools.
Fascism’s needle kills and rules,
While tiny men play petty duels.

These tiny men, the worthy hate,
Forget the books that idiots state.
Trash and lies—they pile the freight,
A cesspool filled with poisoned bait.

You are the Spirit, hold it tight—
In this madhouse, it’s your light.
Answers come from Spirit’s height,
While fools deserve disdain outright.

The End approaches, war with Mind,
From the abyss, salvation find.
Cataclysms cleanse the blind,
And end will come for those unkind.

The worthy saved if Spirit leads,
While creatures tremble, dread proceeds.
The foul stench from media feeds,
For it knows shame will drown their creeds.



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



Men and Vermin

Small men gnaw on scraps like rats,
Minds are weak, a chaos spats.
**** rules — traitors, kings of slime,
The worthy crushed by rocks of time.

Coal to diamond, fate’s design,
But dullness thrives, devours the spine.
In jungles dark, the gifted fall —
Bow to filth, you lose it all.

Patience of monsters, sin profound,
Madness everywhere abounds.
Darkness wins — the fools comply,
War bloodless, fascists’ syringe nigh.

Tiny men, foes to the wise,
Burn the books, embrace the lies.
Trash and venom feed the lie,
Spirit’s flame alone can fly.

Fools deserve the harshest scorn,
End is near — new war is born.
From abyss the saved arise,
Cataclysm clears the skies.

Those who fight with spirit’s sword,
Escape the dark, embrace the Lord.
Beasts tremble, smell defeat,
Media’s lies meet their heat.



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



Men and Vermin

Small men gnaw like rats on scraps,
Minds starved thin in chaos’ traps.
****’s the king, the traitor’s throne,
Worthies crushed beneath the stone.

Coal turns diamond through the pain,
Dullness guards the cursed chain.
In these jungles, sharp will fall —
Bow to filth, you lose it all.

Monsters’ patience, sin’s deep scar,
Madness rules both near and far.
Darkness wins, fools march in line,
War bloodless — fascist’s sign.

Tiny men, the wise they hate,
Burn the books, embrace their fate.
Trash and lies breed venom’s sting,
Spirit’s fire alone can sing.

Fools deserve contempt and scorn,
End approaches, war is born.
From the abyss the saved arise,
Cataclysm clears the skies.

Fight with Spirit’s flaming sword,
Escape the dark — obey no lord.
Beasts now tremble, taste defeat,
Media’s lies face their heat.



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



Banana-nyama

The monkey’s full, the monkey’s drunk,
But bananas? Nope — just junk.
Total lies — a stinking stew,
Building cages, brick by glue.

Filth spreads out — yet devils build,
Claiming food, and “bonds” fulfilled.
This poem’s truth, the world’s disgrace —
Both absurd, a sick disgrace.



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


At Full Speed…

The secret’s out, the Devil rules,
The world’s a pawn, the Devil’s fools.
Faster, quicker — all aboard!
Rush to hell, no time ignored.

This fragile world’s sent off to camp,
Where reason dies — the final stamp.
There lies flow like magic’s wine,
“Care” a scare, betrayal’s sign.

Falsehood reigns, the ruling shame,
Their rule defiles the soul’s own flame.
Soullessness — the only goal…
At full speed down the darkened shoal.

Then, as the last speck turns to dust,
The little ship will break and rust.
From dust will rise the fiery pit,
While Spirit fades — the fiend will sit.

— The End —