CowID
In Bedlam, madness isn’t new,
But THIS is stupid through and through!
The minds collapse, all sense erased—
Pure Lies like poison fill the place.
---------------------
They've twisted minds in endless strife,
Where wretched chaos rules the life,
And turned the souls to frozen stone,
While bowing down to Evil's throne.
---------------------
Don't waste your days awaiting wonder—
This tale is grim, yet all too real:
The vile ones rise, they pull us under,
And rot becomes the grand ideal.
---------------------
Degradation in Delusions
"Mankind has long been lost in lies."
— Laozi, 5th century BC
The ages pass, yet false beliefs
Keep growing stronger every day.
So cast aside imposed deceits,
And let your Soul, not mind, hold sway.
The mind is shaped by fiends from Hell
Through "culture," "laws," and life's cruel game.
Yet thinking still is vital—well,
If reason’s free from drunken shame.
Intuition is your guide—
The Soul and mind in harmony.
Or else the world, in downward stride,
Will drag you back to misery.
---------------------
Race to Hell
"A lame man on the rightful way
Outruns the swift who’s led astray."
— Francis Bacon, 17th century
The world is racing—cash and fame,
A senseless chase, a deadly snare.
And many crash—while fiends proclaim
Their joy in others’ grim despair.
So walk, or crawl, or run if able—
Hell’s road is not your path to tread.
A step toward Light, though small and frail,
Will save your Soul and lift your head.
Fulfill your duty—Spirit calls,
All else is filth, a hollow lie.
Give up your flesh if darkness falls—
The herds don’t race, they’re led to die.
---------------------
False Religions
A service held in Satan’s hall—
They praise the weak, they crown the small.
A "slave of God"—their proud refrain,
For feeble minds bring greater gain.
The schools instill the art of sleep,
The preachers lie, the strong mislead.
Propaganda seals the deal,
And blind submission shapes their creed.
Thus, a MAD ENSLAVED MACHINE—
Hoards of filth, deceit unseen.
Greed and falsehood rule his days,
Trained to serve the Dark’s embrace.
Call it "good" a hundred times—
Will that cleanse the world of crimes?
If you trust the painted lie,
You're diseased in heart and mind.
---------------------
"Scorcher," or the Resilience of Ukrainian Troops
A thermobaric blast ignites—
The Russian fiend its fire lights.
Yet soldiers stand, unbowed, unbroke,
Their will as strong as iron oak.
And so the beasts will fail again,
Their fury spent on helpless men.
Civilians burned in cruel spite—
Genocide, in naked sight.
But justice waits—its time will come,
Each butcher’s name will soon be "sung".
No lie can wash their crimes away—
For Russia drowns in dark decay.
---------------------
Today’s Poet—A Sign of Decay
They fund the cripples, priests, and frauds,
Fake “science,” art that’s made for sale.
But not the poets—what a shame,
A world where truth is doomed to fail.
Want to publish? Pay the price!
Culture’s dead, it’s all a game.
Madness spreads in waves of lies,
Corruption crowned in rot and flame.
For a poet shows decay—
No craft is held in higher grace.
Yet the beasts demand a pawn,
A fool to lead the doomed like slaves.
Driving herds straight to the slaughter,
Draped in “goodness,” robed in lies.
But, in truth, they’ve earned no better,
Bowing low to Hell’s device.
---------------------
My Poetry
They’ve torn my verses, line by line—
A spark of vision, it would seem.
Yet what they truly value’s mine:
I never served the vile regime.
But higher still—this battle fought
Against the Rot that clouds the sky.
For words strike harder than a shot,
And thoughts outlive the bullet’s cry.
No hand will lift my voice to fame,
Yet I have done what must be done.
And hope? A fool’s deluded game—
The blind kneel to it, one by one.
