Hopelessness Without a Way

Hopelessness Without a Way

Hopelessness, with no true road,
Few will find themselves, their code.
The rest are lost in tangled lies,
A web of tricks beneath the skies.



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The End of the Path

The end of the path,
The spirit near,
Mind subdued,
Shunning all fear.



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Waste Not Your Strength

Much strength has gone to waste, I know—
Now focus, bring it to the fore:
Do all with zeal, with fiery glow—
In bold new dawns, as crowns restore.



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The Spread of Chaos

Rarely does a lie strike true,
The aim is fire across the view.
And later, all will drown in grime—
That’s how they spread the endless crime.



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Self-Deception

Deceive yourself, you’re not a knight,
"Free will" is nothing but a fight.
You’re but a watcher of decay,
And in that role, you lead astray.



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Deceitful Words

Tilly-tilly, trally-trally,
What we claimed was love so wally—
We deceived ourselves, so sadly.



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The Power Divide

A bulldog's bite, a rhino's horn—
"Separation of powers" worn.
A sham, a trick, a wretched game,
In a world where people bring the shame.



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Masha, Masha!

Masha, Masha, joy divine!
For two, dear Mashunya toils and shines.
By morning, off to work she goes,
By night, she serves those she knows.



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Games of Deceit

Tilly-tilly, trally-trally,
Beat and brawl, they lied so badly.
Lies upon lies, they played their part,
In the puzzle of a broken heart.



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Blacksmiths of Stupidity's "Happiness"

The gloom of vice is far more sweet—
Darkness never leaves the mind’s retreat.
As for chains that bind from without,
Rust them, forge them anew, no doubt.



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The Way Out

There’s always a way, and usually
It’s where the entrance used to be.
But into darkness, you run foolishly,
Mind scattered, lost in misery.



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Supreme Control

Thunder, lightning—frozen, hanging,
Glitch in skies? Oh, that’s alarming!
If the news gets stuck mid-motion,
That’s a glitch with worse devotion.

Not a madhouse—call it cover,
"World’s top roof"—their name’s no other.
Now it’s sliding, slow and steady,
To the press—where power’s ready.

Politics? A clown’s dominion.
Media bends all opinions.
Crowds obey each sly persuasion—
Lies on screen spark blind invasion.



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Puzzles and Bruises

Tyrants love their wicked puzzles,
Boots of steel stomp down the street.
Cops and spies—corrupt and muzzled,
Praise the lie, their god of deceit.

They will break you, crush, and shatter,
Not for fun, but for a cause.
Random victims? Doesn't matter—
Devils think with shattered laws.



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Building the "Brighter Future"

The darker now, the brighter dawn—
That’s how the tyrants push their lies.
The deeper gloom they trample on,
The harsher toil for those alive.

With theories grand, they preach and plot,
Like Stalin, Pol Pot—strong in creed.
They scrawl their slogans—mindless rot,
And watch a nation burn and bleed.



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The Depths of Corruption, or The Label-Man

A polished look—that’s all they teach,
A branded world—stamped out like tin.
And “quality” stays out of reach,
Reserved for those who pay to win.

Bright labels shine, yet minds grow hollow,
Their worth’s not set by thought or deed.
That’s why it’s rare today to follow
A soul unmasked in depths of greed.



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The Minefield of False Life

"To live one’s life is not to stroll across a field."
— Proverb


A walk through a minefield—explosions all ’round,
Fools curse their fate with a cowardly sound.
They whine about dangers, their skins are so dear,
Yet live without courage—enslaved by their fear.

Deception and terror are packed in each mine,
The sappers are bribed, they will fall into line.
Fear makes you a beast, to the darkness you kneel,
And carry its judgment with zeal.

Deceived by the foe, you will turn on your own,
Destroying your soul as you march to their throne.
A lamb to the slaughter, you’ll run to their cage—
Your heart traded in for a wage.

The way out? Exploding each mine as you go,
To be your true self, not a beast they control.
Let liars keep lying—you laugh in their face,
And walk on with fearless embrace!



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"Brave New World"

Much to think about?
Nothing. Who would care!
Crunch your evening snack,
Watch the screen and stare.

See, a clever guy
Tells us what to do.
We won’t step in lies—
He explains it through.

We’ll defend our fate,
Smash the neighbor’s face,
March towards our great
Happiness embrace.

New rules shall arrive,
Old fools write them down:
"Serve your land—survive!
Throw your mind and drown!"



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Fake-News Feast

From the void, they craft a tale,
News spun out of empty air.
Eager fools, without fail,
Swallow lies without a care.

Mouths agape, they beg for more,
Never questioning the taste.
Truth, meanwhile, must break the door,
Struggling through a world debased.

Filth and stench of twisted presses
Choke the world in toxic smog.
Liars cheer—but time suppresses,
For their reign won’t last for long.

Soon the clock will strike them down,
Justice waits—its grip is tight.
Infernal lies will burn and drown,
Vanished into endless night.



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The Furry Ones

Winnie’s off to hunt for honey,
Nothing stops him on the way.
Rivers crossed and hills made runny,
God is "with the folks"—they say.
Rabbits dig their holes—how funny,
Let the bear enjoy his prey.

Sawdust packed inside his noggin,
Honey makes it smooth and light.
Once he rests—he starts the slogging,
Shouting loud with all his might.
Neighbors cringe but keep on nodding,
Not admitting wrong from right.



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Elephants and Curs

A cur can bark for hours on,
It’s all the strength it knows.
And when the yapping turns to throngs,
An elephant still bows.

They swarm, they bite—just some draw blood,
Yet still, the wounds run deep.
He falls, they cheer—a lifeless husk,
Another takes the leap.

And elephants grow fewer still,
While mongrels flood the way.
No fable here—those with the will
And Fire fade away.



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All Roads Lead to the Madhouse

The world is teeming with the mad,
Their numbers growing every day.
When fools and lunatics command,
All roads to Bedlam pave the way.

A fool or schizo walks beside you,
Though you may just be lost, not wild.
But reason barely dares to guide you—
Its voice is hushed where minds are blind.

And when its voice is lost for good,
The fate is sealed, the end is near.
So pull yourself, as best you could,
By reason’s hand from madness clear.



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;Sheepish Democracy

Who will cut? It’s all a game,
The sheep choose blind, a chosen few,
The shearers’ clan, they stake their claim,
Their hidden power rings untrue.

The styles of cuts they all approve,
It’s still the watchful eye’s design.
The sheep, in bliss, they blindly move—
Dreaming of a freedom that’s not mine.



--- Total 22 poems. ---