Dehumanization
"Their goal is reached. On Saturdays, the young
Choose malls, not books—their minds undone."
—Noam Chomsky
Clothes and fast food, fleeting pleasures,
Thoughts? Just boredom once was measured,
Now—no thoughts, just empty eyes:
Beasts in humanly disguise.
Thus the world’s transformation’s done,
Filth has conquered, all have run,
Greed and Mammon rule supreme,
Rotting souls in poisoned dream.
Stables ruled by Satan’s order,
Fascism dressed in finer borders,
Soon, like cattle, none will fight—
Dumbness deemed the final right.
Camps arise—white flags with crosses,
Branding minds with mental losses,
Pricked like livestock, marked and drained,
Till they rot—together slain.
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Nothing’s left behind, ruins lie ahead,
In between—disgrace and filth,
Yet they preach: “Have hope instead!”—
Truth’s now seen as useless spilth.
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The Voice of Essence
Hear the voice of Essence—
That’s your soul inside.
World is filled with falsehood,
Cast the filth aside!
Chase your own ideas,
Ones that burn in you.
Act with fearless spirit—
Time is running through.
If your strength is fading,
If your days are thin,
Would you fall for nonsense
Wrapped in golden skin?
Wise men know the answer:
Every fate is near,
Life flies by—so strike it,
Hit the lies sincere!
Smash deceit—your legacy
Will be truth, not chains,
Spitting in the faces
Of the wretched fiends.
Let the flame of passion
Shape your fleeting days—
Even midst the shadows,
Joy will light your way.
Hear the voice of Essence—
Strength will grow within,
Creativity will
Break through all the din.
Yet the rule is simple:
Each must find their own,
Truth is drowned in falsehood,
Lies have overgrown.
Madness reigns unshaken
In this world of fools,
But with Essence guiding,
You will break their rules.
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The Mighty Fool
The Mighty Fool, the Great, the Strong—
True king of beasts, he struts along.
Outshines the crocodile with grace—
No trace of thought left in its place.
For thought’s a flaw—who’d bear its weight?
In tyrant’s rule, it seals your fate.
With mind intact, you won’t belong—
No king—just chained, where fools belong.
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Controlling the Herd
Lie anew—the game’s the same,
Slaves must bow and praise their chain.
Trading shackles, full of hope,
Dreaming of a golden rope.
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Survival of the Worst
The lowest rung—a petty thief,
While sold-out rulers play the chief.
The weakling whining at the game
Is crushed and drowned in filth and shame.
For here the **** will rise and reign,
With lies that echo and remain.
The honest fall, dismissed, betrayed—
Corruption thrives, and crime is paid.
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"Defending" the Masses’ Cause
The foolish crowd believes the clown
Will guard their sacred right.
Enchanted by each new letdown,
They march back to the fight.
Yet every law and every measure
Serves not their needs at all.
From one disaster to another—
Their path is but a fall.
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Decadence
Decadence is like a game—
Cheaters hold the deck.
Not a chance to win or claim,
Only loss and wreck.
Throw your cards right in their face,
Break the rules at last!
Smoke now rises—soon the blaze
Will burn away the past.
Fire swallows all decay,
Melts the lies and sin.
Till that moment—stench and gray,
As filth drowns all within.
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Half a Step to Truth
Take one step toward the knowing
Of the filth that fills this land—
Madness lurks, but rage keeps growing,
Clutching sanity in hand.
Rage is born from sheer corruption,
While submission—praised and spread—
Is the mark of Swine's seduction,
Built on lies that keep them fed.
Lies in science, schools, and teaching,
Propaganda—word on word.
Human cattle, bred for bleeding,
Even paid before they're heard.
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Shallow "Life"
A shallow "life"—a curse indeed,
For twisted souls, a hollow creed.
In truth, it’s slime—decay and blight,
Where madmen serve the reign of night.
A Grey-Green Palette
Green grows your sorrow if the grey
Prevails in this dull world around.
Yet face it bravely—find your way,
Or join the lifeless in the ground.
"The same as all." The walking dead
Have drowned the world—a surging tide.
And reason fades—soon none are left,
For "misanthropes" to stand beside.
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Here, Every Soul's a Captive
Here, every soul's a war-bound slave,
The fight is lost—or nearly so.
A dream is all that victory gave,
No path remains for us to go.
Betrayal lurks at every turn,
Deceivers thrive in endless streams.
The blind majority won't learn,
Nor wake from their deluded dreams
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Experiment...
A Pavlov’s dog stands cast aside—
The object here is humankind.
Where weakness shows, the vultures bite,
For centuries—this fate designed.
Fascism, genocide—rehearsed,
A test to break us, twist our minds.
But reason’s frail, and at its worst,
We fall when Evil leaves us blind.
Who set this trap? For what dark aim—
To shatter souls in Hell’s embrace?
Summing this world up, I claim:
It’s lost within a madman’s maze.
Through madness, fleeting souls may strive
To pierce the dark—but most will fail.
This "experiment" won’t survive
If all bow down to Evil’s tale.
A soul has limits—false the word
That it’s immortal, free from scars.
It tears apart when depths are stirred,
When Hell has dragged it down too far.
CowID and wars have made it clear:
The bottom’s close, the end in sight.
Yet some still stand and persevere—
Defying Evil, holding light.
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The Easy Road
"If the road is easy, you're likely going the wrong way."
— Terry Goodkind, "Soul of the Fire", 1999.
The road is smooth, the cash flows free,
Yet something whispers—this can’t be.
You’ve made your choice, embraced the night,
And left the path that once was right.
Neon signs and streetlights glow,
A lantern hums where shadows creep.
You toss your cash—the drinks soon flow,
But something stirs and will not sleep.
All seems fine, yet deep inside,
Your soul still aches, won’t let you be.
No girl, no drink can turn the tide—
They only dull the misery.
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Hamster in a Wheel and a Dilemma
A world of black, a world of white,
A question burns—his mind’s a mess.
The hamster’s trapped—no end in sight,
A lifeless scheme fuels his duress.
The spinning wheel won’t set him free,
It drives him toward a hollow dream.
Yet every choice—just yes or no,
No deeper truth beyond the scheme.
To think beyond, to see the lie—
This maze allows no room to feel.
For all he knows, for all he tries,
His only truth is running still.
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The Social Ladder
Who needs that ladder? What’s the cost?
The price is high—you pay in soul.
Betrayal strikes, and all is lost,
Yet many chase that hollow goal.
You won’t find heights, but something worse—
A middle rank of filth and lies.
The blind don’t see it as a curse,
They fight for scraps and call it prize.
Forget the race, just walk away,
Ignore their games, don’t play along.
Their world is twisted, false, and grey,
A stage for greed, deceit, and wrong.
Betray your soul? A fate more grim
Than any death—it breaks you whole.
Don’t be just one of them, don’t swim
Among the rats who sold their soul.
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The Professor of Sour Stew
The professor of spoiled stew
Knows it all and plays it wise.
He feeds the crowd his twisted view,
And fools get lost in cooked-up lies.
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The Stench of Newspeak
That rotten Newspeak’s everywhere—
"Moderation"—so they claim.
But call it truth? They wouldn’t dare.
It’s just censorship—**** the flame!
The lifeless swarm to honeyed lies,
Deception feeds their hollow core.
And censors, shameless, mesmerize—
They push pure nonsense evermore.
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A Slippery Road
A slippery road
Through fools unfolds.
Just wait—your load
Is Hell’s to hold.
False hopes will fade,
And fears will die.
Yet fools remain—
They trust the lie.
--- Total 19 poems. ---
