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Crisis team,
Command in place:
World’s corpse dream,
"Living" trace.
Guard it close from all dissension,
To ensure its decomposition.


In Russian:

Барановирусные и "кризисные" "оперштабы"

Опергруппа,
Оперштаб:
Мира трупа
"Ж'ивый" скарб
Охраняй от противленья,
Чтоб закончить РАЗЛОЖЕНЬЕ.
The Global Madhouse

The madhouse marches, all obsessed
With "happiness"—their sacred quest.
Yet truth rejected, none are healed,
Just thrown in line to serve the rest.

They stand with fools, they serve the beasts,
Oblivious to what’s at stake.
It’s not just lies that scorch and feast—
They brand the herd for slaughter’s sake.

No madhouse now—it's something worse:
A global pen, a cattle curse.
All else is but a fleeting dream,
As minds dissolve in laws of sleep.



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



Weariness Is Just a Trace

Weariness lingers—no more than a trace
Of time spent trapped in this pitiful place.
Its trials can twist you, can shatter, can break,
Yet losing your soul is the worst of mistakes.

So listen within—let your spirit be guide,
Or sorrow will deepen and darken inside.
Endurance has limits—don’t let it decay,
Or doubt will consume you and lead you astray...
Till nothing remains but your soul in decay.



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



A Common Ram and a Komodo Beast

A ram—a beast, yet not just so:
It spits its poison, full of woe.
This world’s a pit, a reeking mire—
A shooting range for liars dire.

Its venom stinks, yet fools still trust
The creatures bred in filth and dust.
And thus they thrive—this wretched swarm—
For poisoned tongues have set the norm.



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



Idiots in Service of Fiends

The weakest fools of a dying land—
The greatest threat of all.
For scraps, they serve a monstrous hand
And heed deception’s call.

Through lies, they take their vile commands,
Then chaos spreads like fire.
Far worse than ruthless outlaw bands,
Yet courage? None aspire.

They win by numbers—countless throngs,
A mindless, endless mass.
Their greed relentless, loud and strong—
Throw coins, they’ll bite on "Fas!"

Obedient, they march ahead,
As CowID made clear:
The fiends are fed, the world lies dead,
And filth still drowns us here.



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



Light in the Night

The road is walked by those who strive—
Yet not by all who tread.
The dreamers chasing "paradise"
Will lead to Hell instead.

For this world's twisted, upside-down,
Corrupted to the core.
Your sandals torn? Then bare your feet
And wade through filth once more.

Temptations try to block your way,
Deceitful paths unfold.
The false god’s world is bleak and grey,
Yet tales of bliss are sold.

A compass? Yes! Not empty lies,
But Light that shines within.
Find it—without its guiding rise,
Dark Night will draw you in.



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



Resistance to Fascism, or From Hell to Hell

A “tiny orchestra of hope”
Plays false, while singers preach and lie.
In "paradise," the traitors rise—
Their “holy father” rules the sky.

But hope, in Satan’s vile domain,
Is foolish, empty, blind, and weak.
Resisting fascist rule is vain,
Yet filth you’ll never dare to seek.

Your soul stays pure—though doomed to burn,
You'll face the flames with head held high.
Forget false hopes and fools who yearn
For Hell where monsters drive the sly.



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



Oh, doctor dear, the soul's in pain!
Keep your bandage—it's in vain.
Through CowID, we all could see—
Gold, not healing, pleases thee.



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



Propagandist

A arsonist walks among men—
Not a thief and not a foe.
He's the devil’s voice and pen,
Spreading lies where’er we go.



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



The WHAT is naught, the HOW is slight,
Yet things should work a different way.
And what we have? A rotten blight—
To cast it out’s the grandest play.



--- Total 9 poems ---
When "mind development" runs wild,
The odds are high—it’s soon defiled.
It slides to idiocy fast—
And thus, decadence grips us vast.

The CowID years made clear to see:
Most people dwell in idiocy.
"Development" skewed, the selfish breed—
A parasite born of boundless greed.

Professors, doctors, cops, MPs,
Officials crawling on their knees—
Revealed as frauds, a shameless lot,
While crowds just spin and toil for naught.

The Heart supreme, the mind a tool—
Only then the order’s cool.
You’ll stand, not bow to creatures vile,
Nor sink into the world’s defile.

Defile—no less, no more, just that.
CowID has shown where reason’s at.
But under Spirit, mind grows fine—
It won’t betray with falls so blind.


In Russian:

"Развитие" ума

Ума "развитье", если слишком,
Имеет сверх-высокий шанс
Скатиться до идиотизма —
Отсюда мира декаданс.

Показано в года _говнида,
Что идиотов большинство.
"Развитье" однобоко — гнида
Эгоистичная итог того.

Профессора, "врачи" и копы,
Чинуши, депутыты — все
Предстали как большие жопы,
А чернь — как белки в колесе.

Верховно Сердце, ум лишь служка —
Тогда порядок в том уме:
Не будешь ты для ТВАРЕЙ душкой,
Валяясь в МИРОВОМ ДЕРЬМЕ.

Дерьмо — не меньше и не больше:
Барановирус доказал.
ПОД Духом ум — он станет тоньше:
Не заведёт в ТАКОЙ! провал.
The ape-man’s back, he claims the throne,
And bends mankind beneath his stone.
The "Renaissance" was brief, it seems—
Now fascist rule fulfills dark dreams.

Genocide is everywhere,
CowID and war laid truth laid bare.
To the top rise vile and crude,
Where shame and reason are subdued.

They feast amid the plague’s decay,
The final feast before dismay.
The scholar spins his clever lies:
“This is progress,” he implies.

But tread not on their “progressed” path,
Lest filth cling tightly in its wrath.
This world, debased beyond repair,
Has madness dancing everywhere.

The ape-man’s back, his work is grim,
And soon he’ll finish all for him.
All delicate, all light has fled—
Rotting Darkness reigns instead.


In Russian:

Откат назад

Питекантроп возвратился
И подмял собою люд.
"Ренессанс" недолго длился —
Ныне строй фашистский, лют.

Геноцид теперь повсюду —
Показали то CowID
И война. "Наверх" паскуды.
В ком изжиты ум и стыд,

Тот банкует и пирует.
Пир последний — средь Чумы.
Но очкарик обоснует,
Что в прогрессе, типа, мы.

Не вступай в "прогресс" — подошвы
Не отмоешь от дерьма.
В мире несказанно пошлом
Почти все сошли с ума.

Питекантроп возвратился,
И добьёт он скоро всё
Деликатное. Сокрылся
Свет, покрыла Тьма Гнильё.
The Path to a Distant Land

The fascist lie, a shroud so tight,
Keeps minds in chains, obscures the light,
It molds the fools in fearful ranks,
And drives them deep to terror’s banks.

Their hollow cries grow wild, insane,
A twisted choir of grief and pain…
Yet still they march, yet still they kneel—
Blind to the fate they help to seal.



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



Mammoth

Mammoth gone? No, mammoth stays!
Lies still guide his twisted ways.
Since the rules were first decreed—
Only he may learn and lead.

All alone, he claims the right,
Blind to truth beyond his sight.
Scorns the sense that whispers near,
Yet without it—lost in fear.

Sense is light, but he obeys
Black-and-white, the mind’s decay.
Trapped in logic, cold and grim,
Doom is certain, bound to him.

Falsehood fades, its time is done,
Truth will rise with morning’s sun.
A new world will shape and grow—
Where intuition reigns to know.



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



Cupid and the Riders of the Apocalypse

Cupid, fool, your aim is wrong—
Love, when all won’t last for long?
Hooves are pounding, cold as stone,
Be their herald—ride, be gone!

Let your wings bring news to those
Pure of heart, still sensing fate.
See and check—the end soon shows.
Curse it loud, but don’t be late!



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



The Eternal Song of Blatherskite

Suicide’s a wicked sin—
A waste of meat, yet he keeps driving
The herds to slaughter, kith and kin,
For ages—Blatherskite’s surviving.

He shifts his shape, he hides his face,
Yet still his song remains the same.
A traitor dares to shun the race
Of chains, enclosures, death, and shame.



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



Roulette of Pseudo-Life

Odd and even, even, odd—
Yet this roulette seems so flawed:
Whole numbers spin—oh, can't you see?
I would rather bet on Pi.

Golden ratio haunts my mind,
Not a day it stays behind.
Every thought comes back to Phi,
While the world just sighs: "Oh my!"

Cash and status rule the game—
Roulette’s flaw remains the same.
So I place it all on zero,
Though it shines, it isn’t hero.

"Yes" or "no"—a mere machine,
But the world is in between.
Trust your senses, look around—
See the shades that can't be found…



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



Twist Them Tight!

"The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure, and the intelligent are full of doubt."
— Bertrand Russell


No doubt! No fear! March on, be bold!
Our leader guides us to pure gold.
And if you’re not with us—beware!
He’ll raise his hand and shout: "Go tear!"

We’ll hunt them down, we’ll break their backs,
We’ll chase them, sniff out all their tracks.
Those clever fools—we’ll make them pay,
They’re spineless worms—so bend, obey!

Twist them tight and don’t delay!
Drag the nearest **** away!
A worthy foe is what we lack—
Once all those thinkers hit the sack,

Once madhouse doors and jails are filled,
We’ll march ahead, we won’t be stilled.
Against outsiders, strike and burn—
Our flag will fly, our ways will turn

Into the norm for mindless sheep
Who trust the lies, obey, don’t weep.
And those who dare to doubt—beware!
The weak in war have no place there.



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



Brutodrome

Glad to serve!
Why observe
All those foolish dreams of mind?
In the FILTH, I'm feeling fine!

Bow and follow, praise the lie,
Evil wears a saintly guise.
Eat, breed, babble—don’t ask why,
Live it up—till no one dies…



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



Distilling Rot into Rant

The system rots—it’s nothing new,
For centuries, we’ve watched it stew.
But now the rot itself has fled,
All that remains is stench and RANT.

Beyond this RANT, so few survive,
Once more, we’ll build—bring back to life
A world that’s torn, consumed by blight,
Worn-out, exhausted, drained of light.



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



Humans and Humanoids

Ego will lead you into the void,
A hollow world, so loud, yet empty.
The worthy few stand unalloyed—
But who is real, and who pretends be?

It isn’t hard to tell apart—
Their eyes will shine or stare so lifeless.
Divided deep, in soul and heart,
Though outward marks are blurred and sightless.

That emptiness… it weighs us down,
Without paradox, life’s just fiction.
Darkness will claim its rightful crown—
CowID’s the test: the mice show friction.



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



Chemtrails Reflect the Sun’s Fierce Rays

They spray the skies with chemtrail streams,
Not at night—so faint, they fade from sight…
By day, a silver veil redeems
The air from sunlight’s burning might.

The raging Sun keeps turning cruel,
Its scorching beams will leave no trace—
It burns the world, no shade, no fuel,
A prelude to the End of Days.

And fools stand blind—they cannot see,
No thought, no reason, none will heed.
The ones who think—not just agree—
Are cast aside by fools and freaks.

For those who know, one path remains:
A Spirit’s Road beyond this lie.
When this zoo burns in crimson flames,
Their souls will flee to worlds on high.



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



A Touch of "Madness" for True Knowing

The Mine of Death—
A well of lies.
Go test it, lest
You pay the price.

The mind goes blind
In halls of lore—
But cracked, it finds
A sharper core.

Less of "facts"—
More sense, more feel.
All true knowledge
Drips, not spills.

Yet intuition, strong and wise,
May turn the trickle to a tide.



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



Marine and "Nerd"

Marines—
They win.
The troops—
All in.
The "nerd"—a joke,
A pawn, a clown.
The bureaucrat—
He wears the crown.

A traitor’s praised,
A king of lies.
— Who needs the Lyre?
— It slowly dies...

The scholar, the crook,
The jester in power—
They poison the souls,
Make masses cower.

Deception reigns,
Truth is denied.
Who needs the Lyre?
Their life’s designed—
From bistro to the latrine aligned...



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



"School"—So They Say

Memory overload’s the key—
To rot the school intentionally.
A fool’s no fluke, but just the rule,
As nonsense turns the mind to gruel.

And all the manners, all the grace—
Just tricks to keep deep thoughts erased.



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



Rejecting Evil

We resist—yet we obey,
Bound by fear, we walk astray.
Then we stumble all our lives,
Turning all the world to dust.

Evil’s vast, corrupts the soul,
To reject it makes us whole.
Dare to stand, refuse to bend—
Cast the Darkness to its end.



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



Intuition

To wake from coma—
Means to rise,
Leave the familiar
World behind.

Step toward Spirit—
Life is there.
Sense it, feel it—
Poets dare.

Push perception
To the brink.
Hard at first?
Just act—don’t think.

Mind surrenders,
Turns to steel.
Not by learning,
But to feel.

Answers come
Through keen insight,
Crushing nonsense
With its light.

Rant is coma—
Time to wake!
World’s a tumor—
Bend, you break.



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



The Upside-Down Mountain

The pit grows deeper—digging down,
Still chasing bedrock, far below.
It’s damp and dark, no light, no ground,
Yet miners toil—their task is so.

The money flows? Then dig with pride!
They’ll carve a hole both vast and grand.
And books will tell the kids in time:
"That mountain once stood tall and planned."

A new pit comes, and youth will learn
To dig once more, to carve the past.
And doubts will fade, as echoes turn:
"Those men were heroes to the last!"



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



"Choice"

A squirrel runs—round and round.
They shout: "You’re free to choose!"
Yet in her mind, so tightly bound,
Lies nothing but obtuse.

Pick a bar—you get to choose
Which one will keep you spinning.
Trapped in lies, they chase the ruse,
Convinced that they are winning.

Young ones learn to jump and race,
Never pause, just keep on striving.
No one dares to say: this "choice"
Is nothing but conniving.



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



Sheep’s Strong Bonds

The ram obeys—his shepherd near,
No fear of staff, no horn to chide.
So too with men—through faith or fear,
They're bound by God and laws as guide.



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



To the Artist

Forget the crowd, the board, their praise—
It's better to write and let it stay.
No need to bend, no need to stray—
Eternal works may find their way.

For watching the masses, fearing their call,
Where slaves are many—free minds are few,
Will turn the artist, the writer, them all,
To traitors lost—their talent through.



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



Entertaining Chemistry, or "Nature’s Crown"

This chemistry is quite the art—
Not for school, but for the feast.
They twist our minds, they tear apart,
And turn the crowd into a beast.

The dumbing down that schools begin,
The rotten media refine.
Forget your will, give up, give in—
Your mind is nearly out of time.

For reason fades where fools are vast,
And idiots now set the tone.
Free thought? Too rare—it couldn’t last.
And fascist claws keep growing strong.

The future? None. A twisted tale
That nears its grim and final part.
We’re not the same, we’re bound to fail—
The crown will rot, then fall apart.



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



Amidst the Filth...

The heroes took another way
And lived a little more than most.
Now only **** and rot remain—
Dark years ahead, a heavy cost.

The CowID, the war, the stage is set,
The filth expands, the chains grow tight.
With bravery gone, the Spirit spent,
There's no one left to stand and fight.



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



The Dead, or The World Unmasked

No disguise—just "FAS!"—the call,
And fools rush in without a doubt.
Fascism suits us, after all—
The dead now freely walk about.

The living lost, the dead run wide—
No thrill or feast can break the spell.
And in their joy, they **** their ride—
For walking corpses, all is well.



--- Total 22 poems. ---
No way ahead—
All else is misread.
Only a Doom
Will bury the gloom.



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



Exploiting "homeland" once again,
And all the nonsense tied to it—
It breeds misshapen, soulless men,
As darker days ignite the pit.



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



Do Russians long for war?—
Go ask the Devil, search for more.
The land is drowned in Satan’s creed,
Sunk to the depths of darkest deed.



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



Inverse Proportion

Filth we spread and breed anew,
Fear and darkness growing, too.
Thus, the Mind will rot away—
See the world in filth today.

CowID showed it, war revealed:
Few still stand with thoughts unsealed.
Not just puppets, not just blind—
Only those who use their mind.



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



To die the perfect way—
The hardest task, they say.
No hope for light to stay—
The darkness won’t decay.



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



Running Against Stress

Wind is biting, steps are tight,
Mind is drowning in its fight—
Worse than frost or raging air.
Run, my friend, and heal with care.



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



Rule of the Pseudo-States

The aged fiends, were they in charge?
Or was it puppets, hands at large?
All the troubles, all the pain—
Planned by "gray" consultants' chain.

The elders sit, but not alone,
They're steered like pawns, not on their own.
Advisors—**** of highest class,
They fit in any ruling mass.

From monsters runs a hidden thread,
Yet fools can't see where they are led.
The blinded herd will march in line,
Unknowing slaves to the design.

A few could see, yet failed to break
The feeble thread for reason’s sake.
For in the world of hollow minds,
True wisdom barely stays alive.



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



Rule of the "Nation"

The mob’s out of touch with the mind,
So lies flow thick, with fear entwined.
Feast on dread and serve the night,
Bow to darkness, hide from light.



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



Outdated Notion of Selling the Soul

No need to sell the soul to dark,
Under lies' control, we sink and spark.
Demons rot where they must stay—
By silence bound, we serve their sway.

Through faith or ideas, most believe,
In Satan's filth, they’re forced to grieve.
Triumph of beasts, it spreads around,
While truth and light are rarely found.

Only in struggle with the foe
Can the soul be saved from woe.
For fear and lies will break the thread,
And bind the slave, so hope is dead.



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



Believe in Nothing!

Slavery hasn’t gone away—
It spreads through night, it rules the day.
Impairment hides the deepest fall,
The beasts deceive and blind us all.

Soon in False Veil, the mind will break,
The last spark of reason they’ll take.
Madness reigns, as CowID showed,
More lies will spread down every road.

The box of doom will scream again,
And fools will trust the lies in vain.
Hell is here, don’t be deceived,
The devil’s grip is tight and cleaved!



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



Don't Create Problems for the Flock

Leave the herd to fatten fast,
No need to stir them—let them last.
Make up new "illnesses" to spread,
As they sink deeper, misled.



--- Total 11 poems. ---
Not just a few—
Lies they spew.
A million strong,
The loud and wrong;
A horde of fools, a shameless crew.
CowID laid bare it all—the view.


In Russian:

Днище

Их не тыщи —
В лжи грязищи:
Их мильоны —
Мудозвонов;
Идиотов просто тьмище.
Показал говнид ВСЁ ДНИЩЕ.
Subspecies of Man

Could a sleeping god be hiding
In a world of fools? Not quite.
There are types of men abiding—
Most are nothing, void of light.

Slaves and madness wouldn't fester
If the masses held a spark.
Tyrants wouldn’t rule and pester—
They would vanish in the dark.

Yet the kind who feel and reason—
Just a fading, dying breed.
And this truth is not a vision—
CowID made it plain to read.



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



In orderly rows...

"First God created idiots, that was for practice. Then He created schools."
— Mark Twain

He first made fools—just for training,
Then schools—so He took a short rest.
But fools, never doubting nor waning,
Set out on their ignorant quest.

They rushed, never waiting for sages,
Whom God had yet to prepare.
Lost wandering through foolish mazes?
Well, you chose your fate—so beware...



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



The Net of Nothingness

Emotions burn, and thoughts decay—
A bleak, relentless tide is turning.
The wretched dream of wealth each day,
While life itself is blind and burning.

Dark horns are rising everywhere—
They drive the world into perdition.
Now evil sheds its thin veneer,
And soon mankind will face submission.

But Satan’s rule will not remain—
It falls, and with it, blind oppression.
A fool, baptized in fascist bane,
Will share its fate without confession.

Yet Higher Forces stand above—
They’ll cleanse the world, erase corruption.
The twisted minds that cheered on war
Shall fuel the fire of destruction.

And what of those who kept their soul?
The truth will soon dispel the lie.
How long till judgment takes its toll?
The years are numbered—time runs dry...



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



The End of a Dream

Time is tightening like a noose—
No escape, no turning back.
New-wave hounds are on the loose,
Spreading fascism in their track.

March to camps that span the earth,
Or face your fate with honor bright.
Fools embrace their chains from birth—
Only flames can end the blight.

Sunlight rises, burning higher,
Brighter, fiercer every day.
Yet the world’s grown none the wiser—
Only fire burns decay!



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



Degradation

CowID and wars have made it clear—
The world’s consumed by mindless haze.
Mankind has sunk beneath the sheer
Abyss of fascist, darkened days.

Since ancient times, they’ve known but chains,
Yet masked their madness with disguise.
There once was Light—but now remains
Just fear and Mirage in their eyes.



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



The End

The hounds of tyranny repeat
Their lies to fools, their chorus loud.
They claim the law still holds its seat,
Yet crack their whips to break the crowd.

They strike down all who dare resist—
So trust them not, stand up, defy!
And if your life hangs off the abyss,
Then hold your ground—don’t fear to die.

New ways to fight—that is the key,
But people rot in fear, alone.
They hide in holes, refuse to see,
Too weak to claim what once was known.

So hope is scarce, the odds are grim,
And fate now whispers in the dark:
The End has come—stand tall, not dim,
And meet it with unyielding spark.



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



Sheep and Crows – A Half-Fable

By the gate they stand in flocks—
Not the people, just the sheep.
Crows above them spread their talks,
Spinning lies both old and cheap.

With each tale the fools delight,
Dreaming of some "brighter" fate.
Idiots, so lost in night,
Gladly walk on through the gate.

But that gate leads to the pen—
Slaughter waits, the shears are near.
Crows keep croaking lies again,
Drowning out the cries of fear.



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



Half-Measures, Hollow Thought

Half a mind and half a stand,
Yet claim you're wise, brave, just, and grand.
But strip away the vain disguise—
A wretched fraud is what you hide.



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



Almost for Car Lovers...

Hit the gas instead of braking
If you seek to reach the goal.
Through a world of war and faking,
Grasp at least a piece of soul.

Catastrophe is fast approaching—
There's no time for empty tales.
All this wicked world’s encroaching,
Yet pure souls will ride the gales.

For the bright, this is salvation—
So press on and chase the fight!
Know you’re on the right foundation
When resistance grows with might.



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



Youth Is Filled with Nonsense

Youth is stuffed with hollow lies,
Leave them all behind!
Only instinct, trained and wise,
Helps to clear the mind.

Fail, and all that useless weight
Drags you down for good.
Truth demands you separate
Falsehood from what’s true.

Seek the answers on your own,
Let no herd decide.
What the masses claim as known
Is but noise and pride.

Youth is filled with nonsense—why?
Memory’s a cage.
When it overflows with lies,
Reason dies of age.



--- Total 10 poems. ---
Cracked Wide Open

Shell so thick and hollow,
Made of pure deceit.
What's inside? Just sorrow,
Fear, and false conceit.

Cramped and dim the space is
Underneath the shell.
Fear has left its traces,
Carved a narrow cell.

Now the cracks are showing—
NONSENSE floods your mind.
Like a sponge, absorbing
Rot of the worst kind.

Rot of fascist madness
Spreads across the lands.
Hear them knocking—ruthless,
Iron in their hands.



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



By the TV

In the ceiling—hatch ajar,
Peeks a tanker, cold and grim...
Just like that, the TV's char
Spews delusions, loud and slim.



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



Rose-Colored Glasses Won’t Clear the Smoke

We wear our glasses, sit, and chill—
All feels just fine. Yet here’s the hitch:
Thick, biting smoke creeps in to ****...
But under fascism—we stay speech-less.



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



The Living Word

The sacred Word once shone so bright,
But now it's lost in bleak decay.
All that remains—cold chains of night,
No path is left to flee the gray.



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



All in Vain

Your efforts turn to ashes,
Your dreams just fade like mist.
The world is sick with madness,
And you—crushed in its fist.



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



Petty Souls

Deception, fear, and hollow minds,
Small people rule the stage.
Toxic books will keep you blind,
A log that blocks your gaze.



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



The Severity of Style

This harsh is justified
By CowID and wars obscene.
But those who cherish softer lies
Are closer to the deep.

The world derails, a hopeless land,
No saving light ahead.
Through sharp and scrutinizing glance,
It’s drowned in rabid dread.

CowID, the war—again, the same,
Yet I don’t care to stop.
Where once were thoughts—a hollow frame,
Now rots a festering slop.



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



A Tale vs. This Hollow World

Old fairy tales held wiser themes—
Today's "princesses" chase their schemes.
Greedy, vain—no grace in sight,
While "princes" lack both wit and might.

And Ivan the Fool? He sold his soul,
Left with nothing—lost control.
Only the Leshy still remains,
Now a poet, dull and drained.



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



The Tale Is Gone

The prologue’s done, the tale erased,
Forgotten, left to rust.
Now lies are served in every place—
The storyteller’s dust.



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



The End of Days in a World of Lies

The beasts will bring the liars low,
Thus History will end the show.
But Doom itself will lead the way—
Our "holy father" of today.

The few who still deserve the light
Will cross beyond, escape the blight.
While soulless husks, just shells of men,
Will rot in hellish filth again.



--- Total 10 poems. ---
Believed the lie—got torn apart,
Believed again—a foolish heart.
Within the cycle, trapped, alone,
One more circle, then you're thrown:

CowID’s marked, the system's vile—
Hell loops endlessly, mile by mile.
Only Death can grant release;
For crawling worms, Hell won’t cease.

Dante, sadly, had it wrong:
One circle spins, relentless, long.
Caught in Evil's twisted snare,
You **** your soul by staying there.

But Death will guide the soul to Light,
If you’re not blind to wrong from right.
Reject the filth, the vile disguise—
Seek truth beyond the worldly lies.


In Russian:

Круги Ада

Лжи поверил — обломался.
Вновь поверил — идиот.
В цикле лжи один остался
Круг, и далее — в расход:

То показано говнидом —
Ад зациклен. Только Смерть
Выход, а покорным гнидам
Ад терпеть, кругами, впредь.

Данте всё же ошибался:
Круг один, лишь повторять!,
В Зла обманки коль попался, —
Этим Душу убивать.

Смерть в Духовные Пространства
Уведёт, коль не мудак
И не терпишь окаянство
Зла среди помойных врак.
"Endgame"

The IDIOT makes his final play,
The game is reaching its last note.
A move that leads the wrong way—
Defeat is all he wrote.



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



Thorns and Roses

A world of lies,
Where dreamland dies.
The flowers fade,
The thorns invade.



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



For Free?

Clara drained Karl, stole his might,
Nagging and picking a fight.
Karl grew to hate her, it's true...
Marriage means free *** to you?



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



Clara and Karl

Karl and Clara—
Fools, but paired.
Faithful, hopeful,
Yet impaired.

Building dreams
Through storm and night,
Where dark and hate
Suppress the light.

Clara nags him,
Mocks and scolds,
Molds him into
What she holds—
A man who's tamed,
By her revised,
Trapped beneath
Her sharp disguise.

Karl's no more—he lost the game,
Married wrong and took the blame.



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



Cockroach Race

Masses keep striving through falsehood and lies,
Chasing illusions with blind, empty eyes.
What is the goal? Just deception again—
Years lost to labor and struggle in vain.

Then come new targets, with fraud at their core,
Shifting the game like they’ve done times before.
Each generation keeps playing it wrong,
Racing ahead to belong and belong.

"First" means you're last, yet they run to the front,
Fearing the shame of a lowly affront.
Honor and conscience are left in the past—
Trifles discarded, too fragile to last.

The race nears its end, and the track’s set aflame,
Burning away this absurd, endless game.
Change is upon us, the sun makes it clear—
No room for roaches; their end has drawn near.



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



Trivial Rot

Trifles burn like caustic lies,
Eating souls until they’re dry.
Fear and falsehood claim their prize—
Rotting Bedlam swarms the sky.

Madness reigns, the world’s a fair
Where the petty lead the blind.
Like a plague beyond repair,
Faking nations fall in line.

That same plague infects the mind,
Branded CowID to be shown.
Hidden masters rule mankind,
Dragging all beneath the stone.

Fools obey and fools believe—
Most are eager for their chains.
Filth and ruin won’t deceive—
Vermin’s rule is all that reigns.



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



Original Sin

Gullibility's a blight,
Worse than any foe in sight.
Model citizen, so keen—
Tell them lies, they serve the scene.

Mind shut down and conscience dead,
They obey with blinded tread.
Gullibility, since birth,
Is the sin that doomed the earth.



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



"Roses" of Satanism

Roses, tears, and threats entwine,
Lies and whips in grand design.
Masks and poses, fear and haze,
Shadows twist in mirrored maze.

Madness swirls in tangled streams,
*****’s roses draped in death.
Rotting souls, decaying dreams,
Choking on their final breath.

Madness, sickness, minds decayed,
Empty shells in hollow bliss.
Outward—hope, so bright displayed,
But Satanic roses kiss.



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



Editing and "Culture"

Editing cuts with a frown,
Culling the best, shutting it down.
Not a hack? Then ***** their game—
Their culture is a sheep to tame.

Harsh? But war and CowID showed
Exactly how the story goes.
Few stand tall, the rest just flow—
The world, in sum, is less than Low.



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



Not venality

Monet, Renoir—
Did they chase gold,
Or let pure light
In art unfold?

Corruption is rot,
Yet stand and fight—
Serve truth and light,
Though lost to night.



--- Total 10 poems. ---
In the End...

A tale of horror is darker, crueler
Than what the dull crowd dares expect.
For in the end, the Beasts grow fouler,
And slaves grow dumber—more abject.

Beasts and slaves—no real exception,
Hope is scarce, the odds are grim.
Drowned in lies, they've lost redemption—
Honor's dead, so waste them all on a whim...



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



The Cosmos

Its base—deceit.
Its glue—fear’s binding.
The boss—unfit.
Our fate—dust, winding.



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



Truth and the Reign of Madness

"For truth, it is triumph enough to be accepted by the few who are worthy; to please the many is not its fate."
— Denis Diderot


Truth’s worth is never measured
By numbers in its wake.
The slaves adore false treasures,
Their minds consumed by fake.

Few dare to think—yet fewer,
Their voices fade to none.
Truth drowns in darkness, sewer—
The world is crude, undone.

CowID, war—it's showing,
The madness rules the stage.
A war on thought keeps growing,
A war of lies and rage.

Its end is near—Destruction,
The final storm is drawn.
Then comes the Reconstruction,
When filth is cast and gone.



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



Breaking Yet Another Bottom

To hit rock bottom? That’s no feat.
But reaching lower—there’s the test.
To sell new lies and not repeat—
That takes a master of the jest.

The Press of Darkness strains and rallies,
Bureaucrats all march in line.
Decay’s an art—they need pure malice,
A beast that’s truly one of a kind.

CowID has shown—no lack of vermin,
Nor slaves who serve the grand deceit.
The smaller press now weaves perversions,
To spice the greater flood of sleet.

Thus, deeper down the pit was shattered,
The stench from underneath arose.
And now we all will breathe this tatter,
As life in filth forever flows.

A global ***** is fast unfolding,
A prison ruled by code and screen.
If lies keep rising, all-consuming,
Its gates will open—sharp and clean.



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



Down...

The Church now serves the Devil’s throne,
The world is upside down.
The honest ones are crushed, dethroned—
Branded traitors, drowned.

One thing stays unshaken—
Shame will never cease.
Reason lies forsaken,
Slaughtered—rest in peace.

If a trace still lingers
In the minds of few,
It won’t change—just sink there,
Down to Hell’s own view!



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



Life’s Unyielding Dullness

Life is dull—no doubt, no question,
For it thrives on false impressions.
Since our childhood, Beasts betray us,
Swapping truth for murk to slay us.

Mind is fragile, quick to wither,
So the future’s looking bitter:
Trade pure steel for rotting timber—
All will crumble to a cinder.



--- Total 6 poems. ---
A fixed idea—Axis X,
And Y is Fooll Corrupted Press.
On this flat plane, thought’s lost its flex—
Madness is Z. What games? Confess!

All "upward" flows, engulfed by night:
The crags, the peaks, the hills, the gullies.
And "downward"?—What remains of light
Is drowned in moonshine's wretched follies.

They’re silent—how can Sense withstand
The drivel smothering the nation?
Dishonor spirals, hand in hand—
The world rots out in resignation.

The wars have shown them what is plain,
As CowID once did. The madhouse lingers.
Its Depths now reached. The price? Insane,
Through sly deceit and cunning fingers.

Where minus flips to mimic plus,
All virtue falls under negative selection.
The wise are but a little mass
Amongst the fools lost in defection.


In Russian:

Геометрические игры со сменой минуса на плюс и прочими ухищрениями

Идея фикс здесь осью икс,
А пропаганда осью игрек.
На плоскости сплошь Разум скис.
Маразм — ось зет. Какие игры?!

Ведь "вверх" всё устремилось! Тьма
Надолбов, гор, холмов, оврагов.
"Внизу" — с остатками Ума:
С отчаянья залившись брагой,

Молчат — не одолеть им ВЗДОР,
Который мир весь накрывает.
По экспоненте "вверх" Позор —
Мирок покорный догнивает:

То показала им война,
Говнид чуть ранее. Психушка
Достигла Дна. И то цена
Смещенья низа "вверх" чрез ушлый

Подлог, где минус стал как плюс —
Всё в отрицательном отборе...
Разумный ныне словно флюс
Дебилам, тонущим во вздоре.
Igor Vykhovanets Dec 2024
"Winnipeg"–"New York": a fierce bout!
They play rough, sticks striking out,
But not vile; and yet the schemer,
That meek politician-dreamer,
Only seems a kindly weeper,
Following orders of dark creatures,
Hidden beasts, unseen, insane,
Driving policies profane.
Genocide’s their brutal art,
The dull CowID’s a telling chart:
How success is carved so grimly—
In the end, most people, simply,
Are just nothing, empty-hearted.


In Russian:

Хоккей без шайбы

"Виниппег" — "Нью-Йорк": заруба!
Пусть играют клюшкой грубо,
Но не подло, а политик
Только внешне добрый нытик —
Исполняет циркуляры
Скрытых с глаз безумных ТВАРЕЙ.
Суть тех актов — геноцид.
Показал тупой говнид,
Что в успехи в том большие:
В целом, люди никакие.
"Change" arrives—a veil of lies,
The world now teems with fear and noise.
Betrayal thrives, and truth denies,
While fragile Souls meet their demise.

The mind, subdued and stripped of grace,
Becomes the toy of darkened schemes.
With each new generation's race,
The intellect sheds weight, it seems.

And soullessness, now commonplace,
Declared the norm with zealous pride.
CowID revealed its heartless face,
While Shame is broadcast far and wide.

The soulless bask in Evil's reign,
Its grip extends where none can flee.
No shelter shields from growing pain—
If blind and deaf, you’re lucky, see...


In Russian:

Тотальное Зло

"Перемены": лжи на смену
В мир приходят страх и чушь.
Как работа в нём измены.
Убиенье хлипких Душ

И умишек оскопленье
Самым главным в злом мирке.
С каждым новым поколеньем
Ум всё больше "налегке".

А бездушие обычно —
"Нормой" стало: то говнид
Показал Разумным. Зычно
Зомбоящик гонит Стыд,

Что бездушные лишь могут
Принимать. Тотально Зло:
И не спрятаться в "берлоге";
Если слеп и глух — свезло...
Vain wishes cloud the fools in haze,
As Schwab's grotesque ideas rise.
A soulless crowd obeys, unfazed,
In outreach’s storm of filth and lies.

They forge new monsters—cold, unchained,
A hybrid mind, yet steel within.
But Reason’s gasping, crushed, restrained—
Its torture marked by CowID’s sin.

Why make hybrids?—Now we see:
The brainless ***** is hailed as "norm."
A mindless cog, machinery,
It fuels the fascists’ raging storm.

Do morons rule?—A hollow thought,
For they just serve decrees they read.
The circus thrives, the filth is brought,
As clowns all scramble for their feed.

Their “orders” spew more lies and sludge,
Poured down upon the mindless tide.
Escape? The grave won’t hear their grudge,
Or forests where the few still hide.

Without a soul, all ends in dust,
Their plans will rot, consumed by strife.
They’ll scorch the earth before they’re crushed—
For beasts know neither scale nor life.

All monsters rot, all fiends decay,
Their reign is doomed to fade and flee.
Not by the road they’ll waste away,
But swallowed by Eternal Gloom—
Though Light still sleeps in apathy.


In Russian:

Перспективы производства монстров

"Бессмертье? Вам, двуногие кроты,
Не стоящие дня земного срока?
Пожалуй, ящерицы, жабы и глисты
Того же захотят, обидевшись глубоко...
.................................
....................­.............
Не клянчите! Господь и мудр, и строг,-
Земные дни бездарны и убоги,
Не пустит вас господь и на порог,
Сгниете все, как падаль, у дороги".
Саша Чёрный, "Бессмертие", 1908 г.


Желаний суетных затмили вздор
Убогих Швабов жалкие потуги.
Бездушие толпы как приговор
Средь мерзких СМРАДов холодящей вьюги.

Выводят монстров. Их мечта гибрид —
Бездушная машина, но с "сознаньем".
Но Разум на Земле почти добит:
В том признак есть — говнидом истязанье.

Зачем гибрид? — уже сейчас дебил
Стал "нормою": послушная МАШИНА.
Сегодня он оплот фашизма сил,
Ведь исполняет все веления кретинов.

Кретины правят? То большой вопрос,
Вернее риторический: отбросы  
Лишь исполняют циркуляры. Слов понос
В толпу, а клоуны все дружно на подсосе:

ЦеУ получат, и опять в толпу
Ушаты гноя и дерьма навалят.
Не достают кого? Лишь кто в гробу,
Избегнет чуши, иль в леса кто свалит.

Раз нет Души, то ожидает крах
Любые начинанья в этой сфере.
Пред этим низведут всю Землю в прах —
Ведь ТВАРИ сл'абы в осторожности и в мере.

Все монстры падаль, ТВАРИ в том числе —
Землёю правит нелюдь, то издревле.
Сгниют не у дороги, а во Мгле,
Хоть Силы Света, очевидно, ныне дремлют.


СМРАД - средства массовой
рекламы, агитации, дезинформации
"It snowed and snowed across the land,
Through all its reaches.
A candle burned upon the stand,
A candle burned…"
But no, it wasn’t just a flame—
The chandelier was blazing!
The executioner’s glasses gleamed,
Their sharpness truly dazing".
Alexander Galich, "In Memory of Pasternak", 1966


No need for hangmen now, you see—
Just triple all the lies,
And fools will rush, quite zealously,
To build camps where truth dies.

A modern Camp will soon arise—
How very high-tech!
A "People" with dull, vacant eyes
Will bow beneath its wreck.

The rustic fools once cried for whips,
A priest, a spy, a guard;
Their heirs now digitize their scripts,
Oppression masked, yet hard.

CowID, war—a madhouse grows,
The chaos ever crueler.
The masses molded into crows—
Here Hell shall be the ruler.

Perhaps a global cataclysm
Will cleanse and start anew,
But for now, blunt fascism
Bites fools with venom "true"...


In Russian:

Дурни, посконные и современные

"Мело, мело по всей земле
Во все пределы.
Свеча горела на столе,
Свеча горела..."
Нет, никакая не свеча —
Горела люстра!
Очки на морде палача
Сверкали шустро!"
Александр Галич, "Памяти Пастернака", 1966 г.


Уже не надо палача —
Лишь ложь утроить:
И дурни будут сгоряча
Вновь Лагерь строить.

Построят Лагерь Цифровой —
Так современно!
"Народ" с пробитой головой
Пришёл на смену

Посконным дурням — им палач
Обычный нужен,
Равно жандарм, попец, стукач —
Всегда натружен.

Говнид, война — Сплошной Дурдом.
И то ли будет!
Народец делают скотом —
Здесь Ад пребудет.

Спасёт Всемирный Катаклизм —
Начнём сначала!
Ну а пока тупой фашизм
Впил в дурней жало...
From Klein's old bottle to blockchain,
Fake AIDS outpaced the CowID scare.
In Hell, life’s simple, raw, and plain—
Just evil’s patience, lies, and fear.


In Russian:

Движуха в Аду

Бутылка Клейна до блокчейна,
Лже-СПИД опередил говнид:
Житуха в Аде беззатейна —
Терпенье Зла, ложь, страх и стыд.
Suckers

Sucker,
Tougher—
Like a treat
For sharks to eat.



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



Baudelaire sought Evil’s root,
But found flowers on his route.
If you choose a half-way stand,
Fake delights will take your hand.

Trapped in beauty, dull and vain,
Fools like these are not so few—
Praised in print and schools again,
Held as models—yet untrue.



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



Drab and grim, a life unreal,
Pouring salt with holy zeal,
Calling poison sacred balm—
Year by year, it stings more harm.



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



The Poet’s Path Today

No aid in sight, while censors grow,
More ruthless, bolder than before.
Few humans left—just skins on show,
Each year more rotten to the core.

They wrote in drawers. Now, in the net,
It’s just the same—a silent fate.
True bards are lost in waves of dreck,
And verse is worthless in Bedlam’s state.

War, CowID—both made it plain:
Only fierce verse can strike and sting,
To show how low the fools remain,
Enslaved beneath the yoke of sin.



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



"Too much preaching," some may say...
But I write for me alone—
Young and honest, no display,
Fragile nerves aren't made of stone.



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



To evil bowed, a fool obeys,
A madman scribbling hollow lays.
Just pour me *****—make it strong,
The world’s gone mad, it won’t be long.



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



Dream and Wake

Once again, the dome stayed sealed,
And I’m falling like a stone.
Dreams have passed—deceit revealed,
Cheap and hollow, madmen grown.

Yet no fall—there’s nowhere deeper,
Hell is knocking from below.
Lies are drowning all—still steeper,
Sinking fast in endless woe.



--- Total 7 poems ---
The murk of metaphor and flair,
Adorning verse with hollow airs,
Is like a colon placed with care,
While meaning’s lost in distant lairs.

Imagery and lyric’s worth
In vile, profane, and broken lands
Is cheap. We need colossal work
To fight as Reason makes its stand.

Leave to fools the syruped line
That drips with verbal diarrhea.
Still, time draws the final sign —
The world spins faster toward its fear.

Monstrous BEASTS have set the pace,
CowID revealed the fools' charade.
A world of madness, blind disgrace —
Where Reason's light begins to fade.


In Russian:

Муть метафоры и прочее
Украшательство в стихе —
Это ставить двоеточие,
Смысл оставив вдалеке.

Образ, лирика в похабном
Мире — небольшой цены.
Надо делать всё масштабно
Среди с Разумом войны,

Дуракам оставив строчки,
Где от патоки понос —
И словесный. В прочим, точку
Время ставит. Мир вразнос

Запустили ТВАРИ. Это
Показал тупой говнид.
Мир покорности и бреда —
Разум в нём почти убит.
Go to hell, you mindless clowns,
Your fears and lies—just hollow sounds.
The dark weaves terror, feeds deceit,
Not life, but gallows on repeat.

The mind’s condemned when fools decide,
And if you follow, step in stride,
Obey, submit—descend below,
Where madness reigns and horrors grow.

Such bitter words fit times like these,
Where reason drowns in lunacies,
A world gone mad, its muzzle tight,
As evil wields its twisted might.

Through CowID years—three out of four—
Were fools, their souls erased and torn.
And half of them, beyond all hope—
The world is doomed, the final scope.

Yet ruin looms, it won’t be long,
The monster falls, undone by storm.
A cataclysm will cleanse the schism,
Farewell, you wretched, cursed fascism...


In Russian:

Грубое прощание с дураками и одолевшим их фашизмом

Идите в задницу, уроды,
И ваши глупые невзгоды,
Что Тьма твАрит чрез ложь и страхи —
Не жизнь, а отдаленье плахи.

На плахе ум в конце пути,
Коль с идиотами идти
Ты будешь, веря, подчиняясь,
Всё ниже в Бездну опускаясь.  

Столь резкий тон оправдан ныне:
От ужаса кровь в жилах стынет
От тупости мирка — намордник
Дурь показал средь Зла риторик

В года говнида: три четвёртых
В нём дураки. Душонки стерты
У половины дураков.
"Обречено" — прогноз таков

Для мира в целом. Что ж, осталось
Зло потерпеть, наверно, малость:
Сметёт Уродство Катаклизм.
Прощай, подмявший мир фашизм...
The Hymn of Ruin—souls can hear it,
Feel it creeping, drawing near.
If we bow to heresy's spirit,
Soon the void will claim us here.

Foolish worlds collapse to cinder,
Stone and steel will rot away.
Mindless cattle—new law’s splendor,
Branded slaves without a say.

Plague of CowID made it clearer,
Wars confirmed the fate they weave.
Gnawed and gelded, lice sing nearer—
Rotten minds in filth believe.
Igor Vykhovanets Dec 2024
"Yes requires repetition."
Jacques Derrida

This nagging world instills anew
The urge to bow before its lies.
It echoes loudly: "Join the queue!"
And when you say "No," it denies,

Repeats again, with shifts in tone,
Its goal: to rot your mind and soul,
To keep you chained, to keep you prone—
Obedience, the only role.

For "Yes" is servitude’s first breath.
So sharpen doubt, let it refine,
Resist decay, that creeping death,
And master it within your mind.

Let intuition light the way
And teach you oft to answer "No."
Without it, madness gains its sway,
And nonsense in your heart will grow.

A madhouse world, a rotting pit,
Infernal forces take command;
They drive the broken, crazed, unfit,
And make them cattle, meek and bland.

Behold the farce of hollow states,
Exposed through CowID’s disguise.
The sheep submit to their cruel fates,
While others fade in shame and lies.


In Russian:

Приставучая нудятина

"Да" нуждается в повторении".
Жак Деррида.


Приставучий мир внушает
Зла приятие. Опять
Это всюду повторяет.
"Нет" коль станешь отвечать,

Повторит опять, меняя
Чуть акценты, потому
Постоянно разлагает
Ум служением Дерьму,

"Да" ведь первый шаг к служенью.
Что ж, критичность умножай —
Хоть в себе так разложенье
Постепенно приструняй.

Интуиция поможет
Чаще отвечать Злу "нет!".
А иначе приумножит
Мир в тебе голимый бред.

Сумасшествие повально —
Мировой Гнилой Дурдом:
Управляет инфернальность,
Психов делая скотом,

Всюду — это псевдо-страны
Показали чрез говнид.
Подчинились все бараны;
Прочих мало — Мрак и Стыд.
The Filth of Lies

Lies clog up the System’s veins—
Block the path to moving on.
To ensure it still not remains,
Purge the liars—every one.

Rotten lies pollute the land,
Drowning all in filth and gloom.
See the Death Camp close at hand,
Churning lies into the doom.

There, deceit will twist and blend,
Crushing Honor, breaking mind.
Madness marching to its end—
Wild. Ruthless. Deaf and blind!



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



The choice between a lie and a lie is the essence of a wretched world

"Right" or "wrong"—but all is blurred,
Poisoned scales decide the case.
Evil’s law is dull, absurd,
Leading all to the same place.

Lies compete in twisted plays,
Fooling those who fail to see.
Sheep believe in voting days,
"Happy" in their dark debris...



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



Reading and Watching—A Cure for the Dead

No place to shake this weary load—
The foolish world won’t help it fade.
Watch some film or read some code—
Like balm upon a corpse half-laid.



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



Marusya, the Cat

Marusya, kitty, waits outside,
She begs for just a bite of meat.
Her games can always be denied—
While "mistress" gossips, lost in speech.



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



Global Fascism

Mussolini’s stored away,
******, Goebbels—sealed up tight.
New ones rise to rule the day,
Fascism reigns—no nations left in sight.

Plagues and wars expose the game,
CowID showed the creeping chain.
People? No—just worms in shame,
Trapped inside their shrunken brains.

Crushing lies grip like a vise,
Soon they'll squeeze out every thought.
Camps are built to idolize
Tolerance—where minds will rot.

Crowds see nothing, nod along:
“Life is fine, it’s all the same,
Food still comes, they pay me strong
For obedience in this game.”

Few stay honest, few stay true,
Hell won’t shift its burning crest.
Yet don’t cast your cross askew—
Save your soul, if not the rest.



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



Burnout Grind

Work to death? A simple call—
Only strong ones take the fall.
All the rest? Just filth and waste
In a world that’s breaking fast.



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



"Real Men"

"Real men" or fools, enslaved?
Judge it by the world they’ve paved.
If you see a "paradise"—
Ask yourself: who paid the price?



--- Total 7 poems. ---
Igor Vykhovanets Dec 2024
Beer corrupts, as does the liquor,
Lies destroy, and “balanced figures”
Lost among a crowd of creeps—
Madness rules where darkness seeps.

True worth lies in deviation,
Breaking chains of degradation.
Global madness reigns supreme,
While villains call their rot the “mean.”

CowID exposed their fraud,
Wars ignited—gnats applaud.
Once again, the lies will gather,
"Healing", warring—does it matter?

Till they “heal” us into ruin,
Under tyrants’ thumbs pursuing
Nothing good, no path to glory—
Just grim years of sorrow’s story.

Only battle saves your soul:
Be yourself and take control.
**** you, they might—but spirit’s whole.
In *****’s grip, this is the goal.

All else fades—a hollow chase,
A “life” that’s lost in petty waste.
You’ll reap dark karma, feed despair,
And turn the world into a lair.

We’re all to blame, each one complicit,
Through apathy, we make it explicit.
“To the golden mean!” they cheer—
Where beasts are made of those they jeer.


In Russian:

"Золотая середина" для убогого кретина

"Пусть нет звезды тусклее чем у них —
Уверенно дотянут до кончины,
Скрываясь за отчаянных и злых,
Последний ряд оставив для других,
Умеренные люди середины".
Владимир Высоцкий, 1971 г.


Губит пиво. Губит водка.
Губят ложь и "посерёдке
Нахожденье" средь уродов —
Тьме покорных сумасбродов.

Ц'енны только "отклоненья" —
Из МАРАЗМА исключенья.
Мировой МАРАЗМ повсюду —
"Нормою" давно паскуды:

Показали то говнидом
И войною. Снова гниды
Ложью в кучу соберутся —
Воевать, "лечить" попрутся.

И "долечатся" до ручки
Под пятой "могучей КУЧКИ":
Перспективы никакие —
Впереди года лихие.

Душу ты спасёшь борьбою:
Остаёшься коль собою,
Пусть убьют, но Дух не сломят —
Только это в Злом Содоме

Важным делом, остальное
Прозябанье "наживное":
Наживаешь злую карму,
Превращая мир в Казарму.

ВСЕ ответственны за это
Чрез терпенье лжи и бреда.
"В золотую середину!" —
Превратят там плебс в скотину...
"Humanitarian ideals abound,"
They preach, but lies their core surround.
Just empty slogans, falsely pure—
Obedience cloaked as overture!

The days of CowID made it clear,
What this "humusism" holds dear.
Through tolerasty, like a worm,
You'll squirm and serve a fascist term.

But those who stand, unbowed, apart,
Pose danger to this humus art.
The "humus people," dulled and weak,
Fall deep into a ******'s streak,

Like cushions catching flames' descent,
To soften blows that fires sent.
Oh, darlings of the global fraud,
Where lies and cowardice applaud!


In Russian:

Душки глобалистского тухлого мирка, или Толерастия и ГУМУСнизм

"Гуманистических тенденций"
Навалом, только это ложь —
Немногим дальше от сентенций:
Покорность через чушь умножь!

Всем показали в дни говнида,
Что стоит этот гумуснизм.
Чрез толерастию ты в гниду
Вмиг превратишься, под фашизм

Подстилкой ляжешь. Непокорных
Не тронет этот гумуснизм:
Они опасностью бесспорной
Предстанут "людям", в кретинизм

Упавших словно на подушку,
Спасают коей с этажей
Упавших при пожаре. Душки
Среди глобальных пиздежей!
The "great scholar" plays the game,
Knowing theories are to blame,
Yet he serves the highest bid—
Same old story, nothing's hid.

Like a priest, the "scientist" now,
Spins the strike—don’t ask him how—
Hits the mind but kills the Soul,
Guided by Hell’s dark control.

Satan funds the grand deception,
Nothing new—just changed direction:
Priests are ruined, so instead,
Fools now chase new tales misread.

Mindless sheep obey with glee,
Doomed by blind credulity.
Weak submission, hollow hearts—
That's where all corruption starts.

Spirit fuels all life’s progression,
Even slime shows some expression.
Worse than slugs are soulless masses—
Hell spews forth its sickest gases.

CowID proved the truth is grim—
Void of Soul, the herd is dim.
Shame’s the force that keeps them going,
Lies and fear—unceasing flowing.

Salt of falsehood spreads around,
Truth is banished, pushed aground.
Honest voices drown in madness,
Fools protect their nests with gladness.

Selfish greed is all they chase.
So they fall—no need to brace.
Once again deceived en masse,
Fake diseases—poisoned gas.

Wars ignite with ease anew,
Idiots fall for twisted views,
Eating lies, corrupt and vile,
Sinking deeper all the while.

Earth's become a Hall of Shame,
Ruled by those who play the game.
Fraudster-science, trained to lie,
Forges "proof"—don’t ask them why.

Or no "proof"—just claims alone,
Now it costs too much to hone
Any facts, when fools embrace
Rotten lies without a trace.


In Russian:

Лженаука

Корифей "науки" знает,
Что теории лажают,
Но продажна эта тварь.
Впрочем, было так и встарь.

Стал как поп теперь "учёный".
Подаёт удар кручёный
Прямо в ум, похерив Дух
По указке Ада слуг,

Сатанизм ведь главный спонсор
Лженауки — всё так просто:
Обосрался клир — иные
Сказки гонят, а тупые

Верят им, и без сомнений.
Рок убогих поколений —
Легковерность, подчиненье:
Следом Духа разложенье.

Дух основа всякой жизни —
Наблюдается и в слизне.
Хуже слизней идиоты,
Коль бездушны, — Зла блевоты.

Показал тупой говнид,
Что бездушных тьмище, — Стыд
Главный фактор псевдожизни.
Солью лжи послушных "слизней"

Посыпают повсеместно.
Мало места в мире честным —
Их не слушают придурки,
Охраняя норки, шкурки.  

Главным шкурный интерес.
Если так, тогда под пресс,
Обманув в который раз, —
Лже-болезни словно газ,

Войны просто запускают:
Идиоты вновь лажают,
Ложь тлетворную сожрав
И всё ниже в Аде пав.

Вся Земля — Позорный Ад.
Правит с закулисья Гад.
Лжеучёный холуйок
"Доказуху" гонит в срок.

Впрочем, больше "утверждалку",
Тратить деньги стало жалко
На излишние движенья:
Всё сожрут — верх разложенья.
"Any question can be answered, if it's asked the right way."
—Plato


Few dare to ask the questions true,
Amid the lies that flood the view.
With twisted tales, they boldly boast,
And leave the mind a hollow ghost.

They **** all reason, slyly shove
An answer first, then claim it’s love.
Yet what they feed is poison, dread,
A world insane, where truth is dead.

Madness grows — a circus grim,
Each generation dull and dim.
Their dream: to turn the world to swine,
A genocide by dark design.

In shadows deep, they plot, they scheme,
CowID stands as their wicked dream.
Yet some, who think and ask their own,
Stand tall where light of truth has shone.

But beasts still rule with iron hand,
Spreading fear across the land.
Decay, submission — reason dies.
Fascism reigns, beneath dark skies.



In Russian:

Правильные вопросы

"Можно ответить на любой вопрос, если он задан правильно".
Платон.


Правильных вопросов
Мало задают
Между лжи поноса:
Очень "знатно" лгут,

Разум убивая
И суя ответ
До вопроса, зная
Как тлетворен БРЕД.

Бредом оглупленье —
Мировой Дурдом.
С каждым поколеньем
Он тупей. Скотом

Сделать всех мечтают —
Ярый геноцид.
В Мраке не лажают,
В том пример говнид,

Только те, что сами
И на свой вопрос
Отвечают. Нами
Нелюдь правит. Рост

Страхов, подчиненья —
Разум резко вниз.
ТВАРИ. Разложенье.
Мировой фашизм.
So-Called Scientists

Newton’s laws won’t light the way,
Second’s just a dull cliché.
Force? An abstract, crude distortion,
Spreading lies in full proportion.

Pseudoscience rots the brain,
Meant for fools—its prime domain.
Faith, not thought, they take as guiding,
Thus, to Hell, the doors swing wider.

Hell seeps in through half-truths, fables,
Smashing Truth beneath its tables.
Spirit's wiped from all their lore—
"Knowledge" fit for flies and more.

Spirit forms the world's foundation,
Science sells it for damnation.
Fear and nonsense shape their quota—
Just like CowID... their own quota.


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



We serve for gold, with **** we mingle,
Yet fear alone drives all our ways.
The soulless lords need slaves to swindle,
While "God’s own serf" finds hell his praise.



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



Cain and Abel, Magdalene—
Tales for fools, a dull routine.
Want some horror? Here you go:
Christ’s own blood in wine will flow...



--- Total 3 poems. ---
Burattino roams once more,
Chasing fields of golden store.
Fools won’t learn—they always fall,
Traps and tricks await them all.



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



"AIDS" won’t sleep—it spreads like fire,
Gullibility is dire.



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



Feint, then strike—the goal is hit,
Keeps dull Emelyas glued to it.



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



Chasing chimeras,
March on, young bearers!



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



Cain and Abel,
Evil and jest—
Lies wrapped in labels,
Madness at best.



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



A pastor preaching...
"Thou shalt not ****?"
Die like a hero,
Shoot—he’s the chill.



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



Roses, dreams—but threats come creeping,
I resist, yet far too many.
In the end, there’s tears and weeping—
Ostrich-madness, fear uncanny.



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



Genocide

The public gasps in disbelief—
So many lost, so much grief.
Yet bled dry, the land decays—
Just a whim in madness’ gaze.



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



State Secret

No secrets here—just crimes to trace,
Yet trails are gone, no court, no case.

For madness, slaughter—none will pay,
Yet fools trust leaders day by day.

CowID unmasked their rotten core—
The vilest spawn, the filth, the gore.
Still, blindness hides what all should see—
The willful fraud in tyranny.



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



Winnie’s Quest

Winnie sets off, chasing honey,
Craves it more than fear or pain.
Sweet addiction drives him running,
Lost in paths that twist in vain.

Generations walk the same way,
Signs mislead them—tricks and lies.
Every road just ends in mayhem,
Make your own—don’t trust disguise.

Fake or real, just keep it ready,
Sip your tea, enjoy the ride.
In your den, alone but steady,
No need for some bunny guide.

Few will take the road less taken,
Mind and soul must light the track.
Fools stay lost, confused, mistaken—
Wisdom never turns one back.



--- Total 10 poems. ---
The fallen march to silent graves,
While fools defile the land in waves,
Still loyal to the monsters' lies,
Still blind to truth before their eyes.

Like poison gas, they spread deceit,
Bend them with madness—watch them kneel.
Obeying orders, they proceed—
Who needs plastid? We had CowID.

A mindless horde, a crushing tide,
Will trample reason, far and wide.
A global camp they build with pride—
Just needles, crosses glowing white.

And if you dare to think, beware—
The wise grow rare, but fools are there.
And should you stand against the flood,
Prepare to pay—condemned in blood.

The crippled world will test and break
The slaves it breeds—how much they take,
Until the final storm descends,
And sweeps away this dark pretense.


In Russian:

Груз восемьсот

Груз двести следует в могилы.
Груз восемьсот: Земли дебилы
Повсюду гадят на поверхность,
Храня обманам ТВАРЕЙ верность.

Как химоружие они:
Безумной ложью их нагни,
И всё исполнят, то говнид
Нам показал. Какой пластид?!

Дебилы массой огромадной
Задавят Разум беспощадно,
Построив Лагерь Мировой —
Уколы, а над головой

На белом фоне красный крест.
И если посмотреть окрест,
То очень редко умных встретишь.
Коль умный ты, за то ответишь

Пред новым обЧеством убогим.
Там суд над умным будет строгим:
Как в революцию — в расход.
Останется послушный сброд.

Поставит Тьма эксперименты
Над глупым сбродом до момента,
Когда сметёт всё Катаклизм —
Рабов убогих и фашизм.


Груз 200 - убитые во время войны.
Груз 800 - химическое и бактериологическое оружие, другие виды оружия массового поражения.
"The only way to improve our reasoning
is to make it as clear as in mathematics—
so errors can be seen with our eyes.
And if disputes arise, one may simply say:
‘Let us calculate!’—and truth will be revealed."
—Gottfried Leibniz, 18th century


The tree of thought, once strong and growing,
Wilts where lies and filth are flowing.
Truth is drowned in brute suppression,
Crushed by "fascist mind" oppression.

Year by year, decay advances—
Fiends ensure no thought enhances.
CowID showed the final toll—
Feeble minds and shriveled soul.


In Russian:

Большие проблемы с мышлением

"Единственное средство улучшить наши умозаключения состоит в том, чтобы сделать их столь же наглядными, как и у математиков, – такими, что их ошибочность можно было бы увидеть глазами, и если между людьми возникли разногласия, достаточно было бы сказать «Вычислим!», чтобы без дальнейших околичностей стало ясно, кто прав".
Готфрид Лейбниц, XVIII-ый век.


Древо мысленных конструкций
Средь тотальной лжи, обструкций
Чутких-честных излияний
Посреди Фашисткой Срани,

С каждым годом увядает —
ТВАРИ Разум добивают:
Показал всё Дно говнид —
Куцость мыслей просто стыд.
Puppets we are—our kin and forebears,
Strings in the Devil's hands laid bare.
They strike with lies, fool minds so deftly,
To wars they march and labor hefty.

A toil so futile, yet without cease,
It strengthens Evil’s threads of grief.
The Beast’s vile flock, secure in shadow,
Thrive under Hoof of Goat so callow.

The Goat, his lackeys—half-men, base—
A wretched mob of hollow disgrace.
They dream of gold, of miracles fleeting,
But soon they’ll face their final meeting.

CowID has shown; the wars, unbroken,
Confirm the truth these signs have spoken.
But puppets, worthless in their role,
Deserve their fate—mere empty souls.


In Russian:

Чёрт, его подпёздки и марионетки

Марионетки —
Все мы и предки.
А нити к Чёту приведут.
Но ложью бьют в придурков метко —
Идут на войны и на труд.
На труд напрасный,
Что ежечасно
Сплошь укрепляет Нити Зла.
ТВАРЬЁ устроилось прекрасно
В сени Жестокого Козла.
Козёл, подпёздки полу-люди,
Марионеток жалкий сброд
Мечтает о деньгах и чуде,
Но скоро пустят их в расход.
То показал говнид. А войны
Лишь подтвердили мненье то.
А впрочем, этого достойны
Все куклы — полное ничто.
The gangrene’s rot consumed the mind,
Three-fourths of reason lost, confined.
And Russia fell beneath them all,
Where fools on fools their ranks enthrall.

The bottom proved by CowID and war,
By lies that ******* evermore.
Three-fourths of folks, deceit has stained,
Their hollow heads with falsehoods chained.


In Russian:

Гангрена разума

Гангрена разума отн'яла
Три четверти ума в мирке.
И ниже всех Россия пала,
Ведь там дурак на дураке.

Проверено то Дно говнидом
И новой подлою войной.
Три четверти народца гниды
С пробитой ЛОЖЬЮ головой.
Tolerastia

Tolerance—just blind endurance
Of the twisted and obscene.
Lies and greed **** all assurance—
Fighting FILTH is hard, unseen.

Law’s true goal? No—DECOMPOSING
All the weak who dare comply.
Serving Satan, fate imposing—
Fools won’t get the reason why...



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



Never hope for due salvation,
Never call yourself so pure.
Through your toil and dedication,
Seek the Light—stay strong, endure.

Let your voice, though small and fleeting,
Stir the madness, shake the norm,
Bringing glimpses, briefly meeting
Those in need before the storm.

Pain is plenty. Yet when finding
Even cracks where light breaks through,
You’ll respond with understanding
To this world—its faith untrue.



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



The Wit and the Herd

Shouting truth? To sheep? To fools?
Sheep exist for shearers' tools.
Pigs are caged by stable rules.
All is lost—don’t cry, stay cool.

Few escape the devil’s net—
That’s his game, a winning bet.
Words won’t wake the mindless set,
Clever wit won’t save them yet...



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



Cry or not, the blade won’t wait—
Execution comes on cue.
This "world order" feeds the fate
Of the minds that twist askew.

For the sane, it spells demise—
CowID showed that, clear as day.
Lucifer just laughs at lies,
While Pure Shame lurks in the fray.



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



Eternal Pioneers

Lords and sirs and… dark illusions
Rule the world—what wicked fate!
"Pioneers" embrace delusions,
Worship all that breeds the Hate.



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



Pioneers of Consume

All foundations? We will burn them,
Toss them out without regret!
Faster gadgets—we must earn them,
Drive the world to grave, and yet…

Short-lived pleasures, all-consuming—
Bow and feast, obey the trend!
Lies and filth run life’s programming:
Honest? Then you’ll break, my friend.

Think you're smart? Then you’ll be sinking,
Dragged down deep—no way to climb.
Brains can’t beat the rot we're drinking,
Drowning bright minds in the grime.

Stench? It’s global, we don’t mind it,
Cycles turn, the wheel’s in flow.
Swirling filth? Just sit behind it…
Popcorn’s ready—time for show!



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



A Prison Without People

This world’s a joke,
Its mind is broken.
The frauds wear cloaks,
The herd stays spoken.

A prison stands,
Yet holds no nations.
The blind obey—
No revelation.

The lies run high,
Beyond all measure.
Just laugh or cry—
There’s no rock bottom.

But why, you ask?
The end is nearing.
Plague into flame!—
No more false meanings.



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



Slave Morality

Slaves accept their morals,
Forced on them with ease.
Lies became the chorus,
Preached to keep the peace.

Harder to defend them—
Reason still remains,
Fading, but its embers
Fight against the chains.

Darkness spreads through nations,
Fascist rule ascends.
Madness—pure damnation,
Satan’s hand extends.

What this "virtue" harbors
Filth has made quite clear:
Humankind has fallen—
Shame is all that’s near.



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



Rule of Darkness

— I just want some dinner.
— Eat your GMO.
— Hear a voice of wisdom?
— Scroll through filth below.

— Choose a real leader?
— Look, the Sewer waits,
Craving for the moment
To decide your fate.

"New" deceitful programs,
Drenched in ancient lies.
Darkness owns the servants,
Bound by blackmail ties.

Choice? There’s none—just cursing
All this filth and rot.
Darkness reigns—immersing
All in its own clot…



--- Total 9 poems. ---
To a Poet

Breathe—while breath remains.
Write—while ink still stains.
Fears and lies surround—
Phantoms all around.
Breathe—so you may write.
Write—so you keep light.
Dying comes too fast
If you're stuck in Past.



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



Soldiers

For ranks, they'll pay the price—
No problem, none at all!
The brass will count, think twice,
Yet conscience won’t recall.

So much “meat” for taking,
Do with it as you will.
The war keeps profits waking—
It never foots the bill.

The enemy? Who cares?
A neighbor suits just fine.
Brave but sold in shares—
War’s double-think design.



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



Fascism and Cataclysm

As a whole, "we stand up tall,
Growing stronger day by day".
But divided, doomed to fall—
Rot in fear and false display.

No horizon, none at all—
Genocide is all we see.
We will perish, others call—
Feeding Lies and Shame’s decree.

Nature fades, it takes its toll—
Bringing doom, a final chime.
Earth won’t shelter twisted souls
Bowing down to fascist crime.



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



Like the Rest!

"Be like all!"—but all are rotten,
Not the best of arguments.
Fools make jokes, yet all forgotten—
"All" have lost their common sense.

"Nothing’s real!"—but all is faking,
"Nothing’s real"—the latest brand.
Madness grips the world, remaking
Truth to dust and lies to sand.

Few escape this grand delusion,
Fleeting sparks in memory’s mist.
Shame, decay, and false inclusion—
"All" are swine that still exist...



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



Sheeple-virus

CowID: the world’s a crude cartoon—
So dull, obscene, enraged, insane.
We mourn as Culture meets its doom,
Drowned out by media’s dull refrain.

Corrupt reports now rule the land,
No higher power left to see.
The few who think can barely stand—
Their blood runs cold from this disease.



--- Total 5 poems. ---
Wise one, halt—
Just pure fault.
Convince fools? You’d break your hand
Striking iron into sand.
Pointless—progress here is hollow.
Nothing fresh; decay must follow.
Honest hearts will soon be banned,
Criminals by CowID brand.
Reason here lies all but dead.


In Russian:

Умник, стой —
Сплошь отстой:
Идиотов убедить —
Плетью столб перешибить
Проще, да и потолковей.
Не видать в Уёбстве нови —
Разложенье неотступно.
Честный скоро как преступник
Будет — показал говнид.
Разум здесь почти добит.


Вариант. "Не видать в Отстое нови —"
"The most dangerous delusions are those that hold a grain of truth."
— Adam Smith, 18th century.

The world is trapped in blind conviction,
Truth within—a broken part.
Scoundrels shape the same affliction,
Deal their lies with crooked art.

Half-truths twisted, rearranging
With the shifting tides of time.
Swindlers, scheming and deranging,
Feed the masses fraud like crime.

Gullibility and blindness,
Failing facts to comprehend.
Thus begins the rot of mindness,
Thus it spreads—it will not end.

Year by year, the flood grows bolder,
Venom flows in every word.
Lies grow sharper, sly, and colder—
Faith in falsehood stands assured.

CowID showed the depths we've taken—
Now they build a Cyber Cage.
Reason’s breath will be forsaken,
Crushed beneath the War of Fake.
A mutant mind, so crude,
Now a doctor? Just a shrewd
Merchant peddling toxic lies,
Selling sickness in disguise.

CowID flashed before our eyes,
Just like "AIDS"—same old disguise.
Lower than the lowest tier,
Fools and traitors thrive down here.

Drugs prescribed with soulless greed,
Bringing home their thirty’s fee.
Strengthening the web of lies,
Spreading madness far and wide.

Darkness rules this hollow sphere,
Only villains prosper here.
Shadows feast, and reason fades,
Dying faith, a world decayed.

Doom is near—no second chance.
Fascist reign will end at last.
With their spawn, they’ll burn and fall.
Nothing’s left to save at all.
Every little pipette dreams of becoming a big enema

Each little pipette
Dreams big, no regret—
To grow and expand,
A syringe in demand.

A mold is the aim—
Perfection in frame.
A fool longs to feed,
To breed and succeed,
Yet all that he leaves—
A burden of grief.

A fool's iron mold
Chains minds young and old.
This pattern, once drawn,
Becomes almost law.



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



In general, none...

Well, we don’t question—silent, believing,
Swallowing nonsense, blindly receiving.
Falsehoods are growing, thriving with time,
Lost in delusion—we march in line.

Muzzled like dogs, despised in submission,
CowID has sealed our weak disposition.
Worse days will follow—snakes see it clear:
We are just nothing—empty and mere...



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



Ideologies of Evil

Submission to the “sacred vision,”
When lies run wild since early days,
Makes nonsense seem a pure decision—
A “truth” adorned in brighter shades.

Most obey—the few unshaken
Stand like rocks against the tide.
All “ideas” serve the makers
Of the chains that trap the mind.

Truth is scarce—it’s crushed and broken,
Hunted down through endless time.
Slaves, deceived, remain unspoken,
Drowned beneath their own decline.

If so, then freedom’s path is waiting,
Reason shines, its course is plain—
Simple, if the mind’s creating,
Not enslaved by forged constraints.



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



In memory of Imre Lakatos

"All theories are not only equally unfounded, but equally improbable."
Imre Lakatos.


Falsifications flood the pages—
Disproved when core beliefs collapse.
Yet falsehood thrives through all the ages
When evil guides the science maps.

A “belt” of buffers wraps each theory,
Where counterproofs are trapped in vain.
Truth’s voice grows weak, obscure, and weary,
As chaos sweeps the facts away.

And soon, what once was held as learning
Becomes a wreck—its core undone.
The “scholar,” foolish and unearning,
Stands cast aside, his work long gone.

He turns mere water into wages,
But feeds himself, not humankind.
For “science” serves the gold it praises—
Not truth, not reason, nor the mind.

Yet life’s true base is Spirit, guiding—
Where absent, science turns to lies.
The tainted lead, in darkness hiding,
And serve the fiend they idolize.




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



The thin thread of the inalienable right to Freedom

Through the ages, thin but steady,
Runs resistance to the dark.
Rotten hands would tear it, ready
To erase its final mark.

Slaves obey—so weak, compliant,
Now the thread is nearly gone.
Change accelerates—the tyrant
Sees the time to crush is on.

Darkness grows, no shame restraining,
Brazen, ruthless in its drive.
Still, the Right to Freedom, flaming,
Flickers on—it stays alive.

Though corruption swarms and heightens,
Though the world is filled with swine,
Truth, though battered, never silences—
It survives beyond decline.

When Collapse brings retribution,
This decay will find its end.
Slaves will never be the future,
Life will rise and start again.

Yet for now, deceived and hollow,
Herds are led into the knife,
While the liars preach, and swallow
All that’s left of truth and life.



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



Born into slavery

Born into chains, yet unaware,
A slave won’t see the bonds he bears.
If all before him knew despair,
Why question what the master dares?

Their children serve the tyrants blindly—
They call it "love for native land."
And traitors walk revered, held highly,
While fools and madness take command.

When lies rule minds for generations,
Then rot selects the ones who lead.
Decay ensures degeneration—
Entropy’s judgment is decreed.

Dare to question, trust your reason,
Seek the truth within, not lies.
Only then can darkness weaken,
Only then can hope arise.

But fear is useless—doom is fated
For those who bow and call it fate.
Yet mothers still repeat, elated:
"Just do your homework—graduate..."




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



The Essential Question

Can awakening still happen?
If for few—then all is lost.
In a world of hollow patterns,
Truth is rare… The chains still cross.

Is a slave doomed by his station?
Can these bonds be torn apart?
Nothing else deserves fixation—
Fear and shame lead to the dark.



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



Our Service Helps THEM Well, Yet Hard...

Serve! Obey! Bow down—keep kneeling!
Serve the BEASTS with zeal and grace.
Lie and grovel—earn your dealings,
Gold and honors in their place.

Yet the fool who drowns in faking,
Lost in filth, betrays his soul.
Blindly crawling, never waking,
Dies a coward—dark and cold.



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



A Hatch Appeared—Don’t Be Confused, It’s Just a Ruse

Astronauts soaring—
"The Moon, they're exploring!"
Much like the drunks
Who find hatches alluring.



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



Fear of Heights:
Dive into the swamp of "ease"—
Roots and stumps await your knees.



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



The Question

The stubborn beetle, worming through,
Or a throng of servants, weak and few—
The Earth’s own punishment, a blight,
Worse than the merciless pests' bite?



--- Total 11 poems. ---
Opinion on Decay

Generations:
Degradation;
Serving evil—
Desecration.

Yet they claim—
Just opinion.
Fail again—
No suspicion.

Doubt is rare, a fleeting vision—
Like a bird near its extinction.



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



A shameful world, where freelance sites
Make workers pay to find their fights.
No chance to last—it's doomed to fall,
Drowned in chaos, lost to all.



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



The Moronic OVERWHELMING Majority

A fool will scheme, a fool will cheat,
No surprise—it's their deceit.
But their soul, a twisted thread,
Turns to darkness, sinks in dread.

Spreading filth on all around,
Like a madman, lost, unsound.
They are legion—filth takes hold,
Drowning truth in lies they sold.



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



At the Circus

Clowns in power, fools below—
A circus show, a drunken flow.
New Year's madness, spirits high,
Acrobats fall from the sky.

The clown’s red nose is bruised and blue,
The crowd’s too drunk to watch the view.
Tigers' cages—barely locked,
Now they're loose, their prey is clocked.

So don’t be rash, don’t end it yet—
Just wait a while… they’ll feast instead.



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



The Law of Large Numbers, or The Global System of Surveillance and Deceit

The watchful system, cold and vast,
Tracks every fool—each step, each task.
But in this world, so dark, so grim,
The smart, the honest—don’t fit in.

The brainless fall for every trick,
Marked and logged, a numbered brick.
And with those numbers, none resist—
They feed the beast, it slits their wrists.

CowID and war have made it clear:
Erase your name, just disappear.
Leave this madhouse far behind,
Where chains are placed upon the mind.



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



To Fight the Deformed

To battle the twisted,
You’ll clash with the dim—
For nonsense runs deep,
And fools drown within.

The ranks of the wicked
Have long been consumed—
What’s left are the crooked,
Obedient, doomed.



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



Sinking, Silent
Drowning, groaning,
Yet no cries.
Choking, moaning—
Media lies.

Lost in smoke,
Our souls betrayed,
Bent to evil,
Truth decayed,
Meekly waiting
For false paradise…



--- Total 7 poems. ---
Transformation into NOTHING

The mind, through Heresy— a sieve!
Add sticky fear, and thus we live,
And turn the world to dust and ash,
A fleeting dream, a final crash.



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



Transformation in Dark NOTHING
Through The False — see Foolish coming!
Mix in fear, cold and  Black—
And the world won’t e’er come back.



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



Sharp Rise in Egg Prices

The price of eggs has soared so high—
For poor folks, less to eat again.
They bow before the wicked lie,
And life turns harder now for them...

A man-made scheme in full control—
The grip of death will tighten fast.
Deception reigns—its final goal:
A flood of lies too vast to grasp.



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



I See and I Know

I see it, I know—
My verses will show.
That’s work, that’s my duty!
Yet sorrow’s sharp beauty
Still rings, never fading,
For fate is invading
My soul with its fire—
Not lost in the mire
Of this world of lies,
But where spirits rise,
Where demigods reign.
A poem may guide—
If you don’t comply...



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



Slow Boil

The frog had heard a tale so grim—
A *** where heat would slowly rise.
Yet she believed it was a whim—
Until she boiled... to her surprise.

You’ll see the truth when it's too late:
The cook pretends to feed us all.
But beasts are food—he sets their fate.
His goal’s to boil, not to enthrall!



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



"Novelty"

The "new" fool rises once again
To spread the Lies of those in power,
And chains grow tighter on all men—
Their nonsense chills us by the hour.

The few who see—too rare to save,
A fading kind, a dying breed.
The world is lost, beyond the grave—
The Depths laid bare by CowID’s deed.



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



False Religions

"If triangles had their own god’s might,
He’d surely be a three-sided sight."
— Montesquieu


How weak the gods that men devise,
Mere foolish food, absurd and vain.
Their holy books repeat old lies—
Three lines, and all begins to wane.

This world is built on dull deceit,
Its masses led by fraud and fear—
To slave for crumbs, accept defeat,
To die in wars, or rot right here.

They trust in myths, they kneel and wait
For bliss beyond, yet fail to see:
They’ve never truly lived to date—
Like salted slugs, they crawl to sea.



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



No savior will come, none will aid—
So fight as you can ‘gainst the Wrong.
But Death is the judge, and it’s weighed:
Were you just a fool all along?



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



Crystals of Truth Amid Mountains of Mire

They’ll write up tons of hollow lines—
Editors rule with careful hand,
Selecting all that twists and blinds
The soul, so darkness grips the land.

They lift up ego, sharpen guile,
And heap deception on the pyre.
Confusion blooms—a numbing smile,
While minds are drowning in the mire.

This trash was made to cloud the sight,
Truth’s crystals lost within the lies.
The media now owns the night,
As Bedlam feeds the world’s disguise.

So finding truth—just slim remains—
Like searching needles in the stains.



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



Decay

To twist your soul, just heed the lies,
Let nonsense fill your ears and eyes.
To **** the mind—obey once more,
Drink poison words that Evil pours.

Decay will spread, enslaving all,
And you will help the darkness crawl.
For greed alone you play the game,
All else erased without a shame.

The world is blind, corrupt, untrue,
And those who see are far too few.
No handful here can turn the tide—
Decay will grow. It won’t subside.



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



Managing the Mob

The ministers all play their game,
The parliament's a joke, a shame.
The president’s a mindless fool—
The mob just loves a puppet’s rule.

The ministers don’t waste their stay—
No time for pride, just loot and play.
Their terms are short, so steal it fast,
Before the chance has quickly passed.

The media now runs the show—
The fools consume the filth they throw,
Obeying plans of those in power,
Drunk on lies from hour to hour.

Yet behind the scenes, the beast
Tightens chains and won’t release.
Bound by dirt, they nod and crawl—
Obey, and you may rise—or fall.

The tale’s old, but still it grows,
And madness deepens as it flows.



--- Total 11 poems. ---

— The End —