Èãîðü Âûõîâàíåö, ñòèõè 10001-10500

Èãîðü Âûõîâàíåö, ñòèõè: 10001-10500



The Shackles

"Diplomacy means stroking dogs
Until their muzzles fit."
— Friedrich Nietzsche


Diplomacy, politics,
"Good manners" and hard grind —
All lead the same way. And the whiners
Get crushed to dust, confined.

When muzzles fit, the chains click tight,
The guard dogs prowl around.
The shackles weigh on every mind —
Break free, don’t fear the sound!




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Black Mark on a Mad World

A black mark brands this world insane —
Stop toiling just for food and rent.
They’ll take it all — a new dictator’s reign,
The scum are always evil’s rent.




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Walking Among the Masses

No terror breaks you down inside,
If you’re not far from their own kind —
A foolish, pitiful weak mind.



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The Noose Hung Over This World

"You must prepare: either mind to understand,
Or rope to hang yourself by your own hand."
— Antisthenes, 4th century BC


If wisdom grows enough to see,
The noose appears — first step to flee.
Decay’s horror chills the brain,
And fools beside you bring the pain.

Understanding starts to rise,
The struggle wakes, the spirit tries.
But strength dissolves in dark’s cold grip —
No slave will make the final trip.

Awareness spirals round and round:
At last you grasp, the fools have bound
The noose that chokes this ruined land —
And all this world is doomed to stand.




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The Noose Hung Over This World

"Prepare yourself: with mind to see,
Or rope to end your misery."
— Antisthenes, 4th century BC


When reason hits — the first step’s death,
Decay’s foul stench steals all your breath.
The fool beside you, enemy close,
In this rot, all hope is lost.

The mind expands, the fight begins,
But strength dissolves, the darkness wins.
No slave can break this hellish bind —
Doomed in shadow, trapped and blind.

The truth spins down in twisted rings:
The noose is made by fools and kings,
Tied tight around this world’s disgrace —
A wreck, a cesspit, a dead place.



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



Managing a Bacterial Colony

Like a colony of germs—
An “atomic” solo soul,
But in countless throngs it squirms,
Its goals a cruel control.

They seem to move by choice,
Yet nature hides the strings—
No true free will, no voice,
Just vectors pulling things.

That vector’s coded tight
Within each bio-gear.
A “prosector” out of sight
Directs from far and near—

Leading mute colonies blind
To digital camps they’re sent,
Where strict commands unwind,
And whole swarms face torment.

But not all die away—
They spare the deadliest breed:
The ruthless, sharp and grey,
With spirit drained, no seed...




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Colony Control

Like germs in colonies,
An “atom” lost alone,
But countless, slaves and keys,
Their goals by monsters sewn.

They move as if by choice,
But nature’s just a lie —
No freedom, no true voice,
Just vectors pushing by.

That code’s injected deep,
Inside the bio-slave,
A butcher’s hand will reap,
Their strings pulled by the grave.

A “prosector” commands
From shadows cold and far,
Dragging dumb, mute bands
To camps behind the bar.

There, digital hell waits —
Whole colonies erased.
Only toxic, cruel greats
Survive — their souls debased.

The fiercest, cold and grim,
No spirit left to find,
A new breed born from sin,
Dead hearts, but bodies blind...



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



Ruins of Mind

Ruins of mind —
Skeletons of lies,
Darkness swallows
What’s otherwise.

Fools rejoice —
Scum thinks for all,
Builds and leads,
Blind to the fall.

The idiot knows not —
Their fate is sealed,
To camps they march —
No mercy revealed...




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Activity and Interaction

Fools were active —
Half the pain.
But INTERACTIVE
Inside that game,

Where chimeras swarm —
A "virtual world"?
Means all is lost —
Fake cheese unfurled.

While real mousetraps snap
In daylight clear.
Skill won’t save you —
It’s the price, my dear,

That they will pay...
Those “platinum” pawns,
Whose “life” costs dearly
Till the Monster dawns.

Mind your head —
This question’s sharp;
Know the game you’re in,
Or be torn apart.




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The Rightness of Effort

Begin with courage, skill, and might—
Finish well what you ignite.
Rushing brings a shallow taste,
Dragging out wastes time and haste.

Rightness in the work you do
Is the pledge that sees it through.
Fools just babble, endless noise,
You who create—half-god, not toys.

Drive yourself to tired bone,
Or rest too much, you’ll reap alone.
Only little gains you’ll see—
Grieve at Death’s inevitability.

Death will weigh and judge it all—
This moment is your rise or fall.
Weakness, lies, and coward’s cries,
Fuel the pain where honor dies.

So be truthful, brave, and strong,
In each task, right every wrong.
Then Death will raise you, not defeat—
And make your passing truly sweet.




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A Mix

A mix of madness and TEMPLATE —
That’s the “mind” of most today.
Why create clones? They replicate—
Billions lost in dull array.

No nature lives within these fiends—
Only STUPIDITY in form,
“Raised” by lies, their fiery means
Wound the soul, a silent storm.

Soulless throngs rise past the sky,
Madness reigns and smothers all.
Wise voices fade, grow faint and shy—
Turning humans into thrall.

This madness grows like avalanche
In a world already spent.
Underneath that crushing branch
We’ll vanish—idiot’s intent.

Idiot worse than scum below,
Through them Evil strikes and tears.
But the fool will never know—
Blinded by his own despairs.




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



Militant Stupidity

"To always be right, to charge ahead,
Without a doubt—that’s the great art
By which dull fools the world have led."
— William Thackeray, Vanity Fair’s heart

Fierce stupidity, no doubt allowed—
Charge forward! I’m the truth, the force!
With brutal shove, break ice and cloud,
Crush stones and barriers off their course.

The path to “success” I always make—
Success alone, immense, supreme!
All else I crush, all foes I break,
Those who oppose? Just sweep—extreme!

If many chase this ruthless way,
Then chaos reigns and madness swells—
A bedlam where the fools hold sway,
And reason dies where terror dwells.



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



Clear Vision

To see with clarity —
A danger near,
They’ll twist your mind,
That’s half the fear.

Each hour brings
A haunting sight:
The horror born
Of Strada’s blight —

Unending grief,
A restless ache,
A heavy road
Through Hell to take.




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Collapse

Ideas lined
Like dominos,
Built by a Fiend —
All shit that flows.

Then one shove —
Down to Hell they fall.
Fool stays mute,
While Fiend takes all.




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



Collapse

Ideas fall
Like rotten bones—
Built by Scum,
Pure shit and stones.

One hard shove—
They crash to Hell.
Fool shuts up—
The bastard fell.




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Religion — The Ideology of Broken Slaves

Pray to your god, the weak and hollow,
For patience, meekness — a wretched pledge.
This keeps you chained in darkness shallow,
Rotting in a fake-ass heaven’s edge.



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Horoscope Psycho-Viruses

Aries, Cancers... crappy traits!
Psycho-virus, horoscope lies —
You swallow stench and twisted fakes,
A fool beneath the smoggy skies.

Scams herded like a nation's flock,
They multiply, but won’t confess
The damage done inside your clock —
A secret kept by dark distress.

The media's agenda drops
From “high above,” they know the game:
To dull the mind, the scum that props
The rotten crew — you’ll never name.

Clicks and twitches for the “roof” —
Horoscopes among their lies.
Media's all sell their poison proof,
Drowned deep in fog where truth just dies.

Astrology’s a science, sure.
Media's the fake-pseudoscience brand,
A place where lies grow dark and pure —
They eat your brain like spider’s hand.



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


Like Locked in a Cage

Crystals form of family’s madness,
When fading lifts the fragile veil.
That veil won’t last — time’s quick to madness,
And nonsense rules where truth grows pale.

Two egos, rigid, cold, and stubborn,
Can’t bend or yield in any fight —
In matters grave, they clash and burden,
Like prisoners trapped, enduring blight.




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




Newspeak

They mold the "community" with Newspeak —
A "new" community, they say.
But Newspeak’s damage runs too deep:
It breeds half-men in its sway.




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



No Rights for Madness!

No franchise for the crazy —
Burn it down, destroy the scene!
Think you’ll hit the lowest? Lazy —
No rights down there, just flee!

Fall fast, then jump like brute,
Break the bottom, claim your place.
But the depths? They’re absolute —
And madness wins the race.

There’s always lower, lower still,
No rights exist beneath that pit.
Hell draws close with iron will —
And madness grows, won’t quit.




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



The World’s Mammon

Mammon worldwide starts to march,
Soon to visit Charon’s shore.
Even he will dread the arch —
And close Hell’s gates once more.

Charon fears — he shuts the pit,
Saving demons from their fate.
Serving edges — this is it,
His grim joy, the Devil’s gate.

Mammon drifts, condemned to sway,
By Hell’s doorstep, doomed to roam.
Vanished soon — a new-born way,
A brand new man to claim the throne.

Through gold and lies, again will rise
That spawn to shake this Earth’s repose.
And bring the tremors, shatter skies —
When Mammon’s dark new chapter grows.



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



The World’s Mammon

Mammon’s plague now stalks the earth,
Heading fast to Charon’s gate.
Even Death recoils in wrath —
Hell itself must close its fate.

Charon shudders, shuts the pit,
Saves the demons from the fire.
He who guards the shadow’s grit,
Serves the edge of grim desire.

Mammon writhes, a cursed spawn,
Chains of Hell will hold it tight.
Soon it dies — a new dawn
Breeds a fiend to spread the blight.

Gold and lies, the twisted breed,
Rise again to shake the ground.
Earth will shiver, quake, and bleed —
As Mammon’s doom descends profound.



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



World’s Mammon — The Deathspawn

Mammon’s curse has cracked the sky,
Marching straight to Charon’s door.
Death shudders, can’t deny —
Hell’s gates slam forevermore.

Charon cowers, seals the pit,
Saves the demons from the flames.
Darkness grins — the cursed writ,
Serving chaos, hell’s own games.

Mammon writhes, a festering blight,
Tied to Hell’s unholy chains.
Soon it dies — but from the night,
Sprouts new plague to spread the pains.

Gold and lies, the poison seed,
Rise again — the earth will bleed.
Shattered bones and broken breath —
Mammon drags the world to death.




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



Mammon’s Rot: The Final Plague

Mammon’s plague — a roaring beast,
Lunging straight at Charon’s feast.
Death recoils — Hell’s gates will slam,
Doomed to burn in death’s cruel jam.

Charon shivers, seals the tomb,
Saves the demons — seals their doom.
Hell’s own servant, chaos’ blade,
Feeds on screams the darkness made.

Mammon writhes in chains of rot,
Suffocates the world with blot.
It will die? No — spawn anew,
Slaughter dressed in lies and glue.

Gold’s false glitter, venom’s seed,
Breeds again to kill and bleed.
Earth will quake beneath the weight —
Mammon drags the world to fate.

In hellfire’s grip the shadows scream,
Feeding on a twisted dream.
All is lost, the soul decays —
Mammon’s curse forever stays.



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



Mammon’s Curse — The Abyss Unleashed

Mammon, rot incarnate, slithers vile and fierce,
Dragging Charon’s throne into a blood-soaked pierce.
Death itself recoils in dread and shame,
Hell’s gates slam shut on this corrupted flame.

Charon shudders, seals the damned domain,
Saving fiends to torment souls again.
Hell’s grim warden, sword of black despair,
Feeding on the cries that choke the air.

Mammon writhes in chains of filthy decay,
Suffocates the world in plague and grey.
Not dead — reborn in filth and lies,
A monstrous spawn beneath poisoned skies.

Gold’s sick glitter, serpent’s seed,
Breeds anew to grind and bleed.
Earth shudders under hellish weight,
Mammon drags all to final fate.

In infernal claws the darkness screams,
Feeding on the last of fractured dreams.
Souls dissolved, bones turned to dust —
Mammon’s curse: eternal rust.

No mercy, no light — only endless night,
A kingdom forged in madness and blight.
Hell is rising, the world’s last breath —
Mammon’s shadow is death’s own death.




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Mammon’s Plague — Abyssal Doom

Mammon rots, a putrid curse,
Slithers forth in hell’s own hearse.
Dragged to Charon’s shadowed pier,
Death recoils — the end is near.

Gates of Hell slam cold and tight,
Demon thralls weep endless night.
Charon grits his bones of rust,
Doomed to guard the cursed dust.

Mammon writhes in chains of slime,
Feeding on a world’s decline.
Not dead, but birthed in filth and bile,
A plague that poisons all with guile.

Gold that gleams with satan’s breath,
Spawns fresh monsters born of death.
Earth convulses, wracked with pain,
Mammon drags the world insane.

Souls devoured, bones crushed to ash,
Hope consumed in hellish crash.
No salvation, no reprieve,
Only darkness left to grieve.

Endless night, no dawn in sight,
A kingdom drowned in blackest blight.
Hell unleashed with cruel intent —
Mammon’s grip: the final end.




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



Mammon’s Curse — The Final Abyss

Mammon writhes, a cancer foul,
Dragging worlds beneath his scowl.
Charon’s boat now stained with gore,
Frightened souls beg for no more.

Hell’s gates slam on demon’s screams,
Charon weeps in broken dreams.
Not a savior — warden damned,
Guarding ashes of the damned.

Mammon’s poison seeps like blood,
Turns pure earth to choking mud.
Born from filth, bred in decay,
Feeding on souls led astray.

Gold’s false glow, a serpent’s tongue,
Spawns new fiends, forever young.
Earth convulses, wracked with dread,
While the living crawl with dead.

Bones crushed under endless weight,
Hope extinguished, crushed by fate.
No salvation, none to find,
Only darkness — cruel, unkind.

Night eternal, no escape,
Worlds consumed in blackened shape.
Hell unleashed, the final breath,
Mammon’s clutch — a deathly death.




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



The Parts of “Success”

Stupidity plus greed and endless dread —
(Fear’s injected everywhere, always fed) —
Breeds a psyche cracked, a mind unblessed,
While years of bondage feed the unrest.

Stupidity’s “natural,” but training’s worse:
The Creature knows the game, the cursed
Programs torturing pure reason’s core,
To silence truth forevermore.

The hidden gist: greed marches in line,
In wretched lives it plants its sign.
And propaganda’s lies and screams
Glue all that filth — the nightmare’s schemes.



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The Formula of Ruin

Stupidity fused with greed and fear,
(A plague that stalks both far and near) —
Breaks the mind, a shattered wreck,
Years in chains make no mind check.

“Natural” fool, but bred to kill,
That Creature knows the poison drill:
It twists pure reason, strangles light,
Drowns all truth in endless night.

Greed marches in a brutal horde,
In broken lives it claws and gored.
Propaganda howls, deceives,
Binding all with web of thieves.

This heap of filth, this cursed stew —
Is all the “success” you pursue.




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The Sum of Hellish Success

Stupidity, greed, and ceaseless dread—
Fear’s virus bred inside your head—
Crush the mind to rotting pulp,
Years of chains—your endless gulp.

“Natural fool,” yet trained to serve
That Creature’s will—to twist, to swerve.
It wrings pure reason, snuffs the flame,
Drowns your soul in filthy shame.

Greed’s the cancer, thick and vile,
In every breath, it claws, defiles.
Propaganda’s shrillest lies
Seal your fate—no more disguise.

This pile of shit you worship, praise—
Is your “success” in this haze.




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



The Sum of Hellish Success

Stupid, greedy, never still,
Fear that claws and kills your will—
Mind decays, rots to the core,
Chained and crushed forevermore.

Born a fool, but trained to break,
Soul to drain and body shake.
Reason dies beneath their hand,
Pure thought crushed by their command.

Greed’s the plague that claws your breath,
Drags you down to hell and death.
Lies scream loud, their venom’s deep—
Bind your mind, enslave your sleep.

Shit you worship, shit you crave,
This is all your life will save.



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


Almost Bird...

A roasted chick —
Boiled in lies thick,
Then fried on Fear’s flame.
To hell with custom’s game!

Crazy bird’s routine —
Spirit’s wings wiped clean.
Powerless? Let it be.
Screw weakness — set it free.



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



Just One Big Lie for One Big Season

The CowID results are buried
In war's apocalyptic rattle.
The sheep, so simple and unwary,
Need one big lie to start the battle.

The first lie vanishes completely —
They tremble at the fresh disaster.
It fades — and joy returns so sweetly,
The herd feels peace and safety faster.




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



One lie. One spell. One herd obeys —
Then cheers the slaughter as it prays.



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



The Naked King and the Numbskull Crowd

The king is bare,
His court — for hire.
The crowd? Don’t care —
Just grunts and liars.

The lords all feud,
Distrust is growing.
The priest’s a brute —
He blesses moaning.

The king is bare,
The axe is gleaming.
But if they stare
And keep on dreaming —
Then chains come back
With fresh enslaving.



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



The Core of Modern Pseudo-Psychology

They bolt on wheels to a dead old mule,
Then praise its "energizing pace."
In "psychology," that's the rule
When Spirit’s vanished without a trace.

Their theories? Hollow, soulless schemes.
The "practice"? Cash, control, and lies.
It feeds on shadowed power dreams —
Where evil thrives in thin disguise.

It creeps into the mind unseen —
A backstab hurts the most, you know.
In this soulless, lifeless machine,
Psychology serves shadow’s glow.

A crutch for lies, for chains, for pain,
Dead mules march off to work and war —
As long as charlatans explain
Their fate with jargon by the score.




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They preach the mind — but sell the soul,
Dead mules obey, and darkness rolls.



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The Blind Spot

A blind spot lives in every mind —
The root of chains for all mankind.
The fiends will preach, and you’ll believe —
Their lies now bolder, worse, and cheap.

It grows like mold on fear and greed,
On pious fools and wicked need.
And while the world just stares, unwise —
The blind spot burns through truth and skies.




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



A blind spot blooms — and truth decays.
The herd kneels down as darkness plays.



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




“Elections” in the Madhouse

Do we “choose”? No — they drag us all inside,
To a madhouse world where lies abide!
Reason melts fast in fascist flame,
Where ugliness and rudeness reign.



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



No choice at all — just chains and pain,
In madhouse madness, they reign insane.



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



The Prime Directive

To foul the minds of countless throngs —
The foremost task, the wicked’s song.
No chains are needed — that’s their luck —
For beasts who spread their poison muck.

They cut expenses to the bone —
Executioners, metal zones.
We’ll spin three crates of blatant lies...
If crates run short, no compromise.

It’s not like concrete — solid, tight —
From garbage heaps will burst a fight:
The media dumps forty megatons
Of falsehoods — “Our brave soldier runs!”

Now evil’s mouthpiece, loud and grim,
Is hope and fortress for the sin.
It drives the Mind and Spirit out
From submissive fools, lost in doubt.



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



Foul minds are their first command—
Lies pour out, a deadly brand.



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



Trash

Stupid faces multiply everywhere,
Spreading fear, betrayal, shame, despair.
They crush the last of reason’s spark —
The trash of Earth, a world so dark.




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To Account!

To bear one hundredth part
Of all this shame — a stain on heart!
To craft one hundredth share
Of all this vile, deceitful snare —

Deserves but death’s unyielding hand,
For treasons vile, unhuman stand.
The prologue’s clear — we watch it rise:
The beasts will answer, no disguise.




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One hundredth of this vile sin —
Deserves death’s verdict, sharp and thin.



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



Anger

A cauldron boils of dark desires,
In hellish flames, the mind expires.
The Spirit’s trapped among the bones,
Worn flesh its cold, forsaken throne.

So rare a guest, it fades to dust —
All seems in vain, but still—there’s lust:
Anger left as last defense,
A bitter shield, no recompense.

Be fierce — keep weak and swine away,
From hell’s grip strive to break away.
Reach out to Light — it lives inside —
No other truth: don’t run, don’t hide.




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



Burn with rage, but guard your soul —
Push the swine, reclaim control.



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


Filth of Lies

Trust betrayed beyond the brink —
Total lies make darkness sink!
So the forecast’s grim and stark —
All will drown in filth and dark.



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



The “Science” of Deceitful Beasts

Beasts adore their “science” talk,
Euphemisms that slyly stalk,
Latin words to blind and bind,
Enemas for the human mind.

An enema — a false pretense,
Torturing Spirit’s innocence,
Trampling reason, truth betrayed,
Slaughtered by the lies they’ve made.




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



Their “science” reeks of lies and pain,
Mind’s enema, a poisoned drain.



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



“Napoleon? No, It’s Me!”

A mission? Firm’s messiah, you say?
Ego’s gone wild — clinical dismay.
Marketing sharks, PR’s sharp knights —
Napoleons of sales and fights!



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



Employers, Consumers, and the Rest

...-ers and -brethren,
Only SEEKERS count,
All else is fading dust.
Brethren—gluttons,
Souls defiled and crushed
By food and blind submission.

False givers,
With free cheese gifts,
Enslave all who feed their lust.
A world drowned in foolishness—
Decay and endless rust.




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



False givers feed the herd,
Cheap cheese traps every bird.
Only seekers hold the key —
All else rots in misery.



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



Slime

Permissions to live—
Licenses, papers, all contrived.
This world’s ruled by slime,
Greedy for our very life’s drive.

They ban all that they can,
Then sell a paper—“control,” they plan.
A feeble grip that fails to heal,
Real harm ignored—the CowID ordeal.

The herd’s fed poison, vile and slick,
Shame dies in officials—only bribes stick.
Beasts now rule, the lords of scorn,
The world sickened by their brazen scorn.

Permissions to live—
Means life itself’s a lie.
For everywhere lies and slime
Are sources where all horrors lie.




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



Slime rules life with poison lies—
Paper chains, control’s disguise.
Bribed beasts breed decay and dread—
Truth is dead, the herd is led.



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



Constant Madness of the Mind

The Rubik’s Cube of heads
Spins wildly on all sides,
So fools won’t find their peace —
No rest to seek or hide.

Tugging, pulling everywhere—
The mind’s roof blows away.
They need a traitor’s sneer,
A filthy fool’s display.

Trash will flood the whole “house” —
This global madhouse grim,
In artificial haze,
The goal: reduce us dim.

Through nonsense, they succeed—
Few minds remain alive,
And even fewer keep
The Flame of Souls to thrive.



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



Brains twisted like a Rubik’s Cube,
Fools kept spinning—no escape, no truce.
Trash and traitors flood the global hive,
Soul’s flame dying, barely alive.



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



The Curtain

A curtain’s fallen — thick and low,
The game of ostriches laid bare.
This wretched world has turned to hell,
A lair of fiends beyond repair.

Beneath the veil, the asses show—
Heads buried deep in desert sand.
They’ve gone feral, lost all shame—
Satan rules this cursed land.

Feathers plucked, their pride destroyed,
Heads stuck deep, no truth to find.
Bowing falsehood, faith betrayed,
To light they turn their fear and bind.

Light’s unseen if viewed by ass—
A chasm wide from truth and grace.
To suffer fiends who breed such spite
Is doom for all the human race.




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



Curtain falls — no light, just shame,
Asses buried, heads to blame.
Satan rules the wild decay,
Fiends feast while souls give way.

Look with ass — you see no sun,
End is near if evil’s won.



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




Assholes hide, heads in sand,
Ruled by fiends, a cursed land.
Satan’s throne, their shame’s embrace —
Humanity’s disgrace.

Look with ass — you’re blind and lost,
Evil’s toll is total cost.



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



The Endless Game of Echoes

Play the game of echoes — try,
If your partner’s dumb and sly.
If that fool’s also proud and mean —
You’ll be drained before you’ve seen.

Shun the fools and all the fools,
Shun the knaves and rotten tools,
Or you’ll turn to filthy ash,
Wake from sleep — break free, don’t crash.

Fools abound — the numbers grow,
Solitude’s the shield you know,
To stay whole and not become
Trash with them — the sorting’s done.

Here they cull the foolish throng,
Fascism’s grip is harsh and strong,
Where their strength turns dark and grim —
Only madmen play that hymn.

Echoing insults, they fight,
Wounding Spirit, dimming light,
Killing Soul in evil’s clutch,
Servants of the weak and such.




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



Fatigue and Death

Fury, weariness, despair —
A scourge that strikes the stagnant air.
Rot and stench spread far and wide,
Fascism’s war-cry, raw and plied.

Everywhere, fools crowd the land,
Few the wise who still can stand.
Drained of strength, no will to fight —
Why protect yourself from blight?

Honor, shame are locked away,
Treachery’s the daily play.
In this filth and putrid reek,
Brains like flies fall weak and meek.

Where conscience fades, a relic lost,
Sensitivity’s the cost,
In this hell beneath the rule,
Leaving early’s fortune’s jewel.




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



Mental Overstrain

Fatigue’s no trivial thing —
You’ll lose what matters most,
Though only dullness clings,
Apathy’s quiet ghost.

It seems not so severe,
But weariness will grow,
And suddenly, it’s clear —
Your light begins to slow.

Then comes the darkened drift,
Your will begins to break,
Lies, fears, the nagging rift —
A painful, sharp heartbreak.

Yet pain, in its own way,
Thanks for the warning sign —
It wakes your mind today,
Or you’ll fade out like a shrine —

A ghost drained of all power,
Lost deep in shadow’s bower.




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



"Adaptations" — Profanations

They twist and spoil it all,
Distort the core and soul.
In wretched fights where lies prevail,
Truth’s crumbs drown in the stale.

Fools and fiends of every kind
Turn meaning blind and blind.
Half-truths mix with lies to bind —
No vision left to find.




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



Stupid Zoo

The cops have gone feral, wild,
Doctors sold their minds, defiled.
Books they poison, pages spun,
Feeding kids till thought is done.

The world drowns deep in lies,
Screens spew nonsense, truth just dies.
All officials bought and sold,
Fake “scientists” lost control.

But that’s no longer the main fight —
Genocide, fascism’s blight.
And in this slaughter, who will shield
The Reason’s flame, the truths revealed?

Only Fire can cleanse the stains,
Break the cursed cycle’s chains.
It’s happened once, will come again,
While Spirit’s trapped in Hell’s domain,

While drowning in the fearful fraud,
In this Stupid Zoo of God.



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



Against the Grain

Everything’s set against your way—
Maybe you’re more right each day:
Obstacles that block your path
Mark the truth beneath the wrath.

Going against the grain, you’ll shed
That old fur that drags you dead.
When comfort lives in pain and strife,
That comfort’s death—end of your life.




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



Mad Rashism

“Liberators” blew the dam—
In Kahovka, chaos ran.
Down below the Dnipro’s line,
Foul beasts fell—a twisted sign.

Their howl’s a dumb and senseless scream,
Propaganda’s sickest scheme.
Dostoevsky? Just soulless lies!
Fascists herd their slaves and spies!




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



Masturbation of a Phantom Chance

Chance! Chance!! Chance!!!
They jerk to that trance...
World’s decay, a bleak advance —
People dumb, mute, in a trance.

So the chance is just a ghost,
Forward—beasts scream “Attack!” the most.
Fools march to pointless fight,
To “healing” death in blinding light.

Chasing chance inside the void,
All drowned in darkness, all destroyed.
Hamsters spinning wheels so fast —
Your chances? Dead, they’re in the past!




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



Phantom Chance Masturbation

Chance! Chance!! Chance!!!
They’re jerking off to nonsense, man...
World’s a cesspit, full decay —
Dumb, deaf, blind, the sheeple sway.

Chance? A ghost, a cruel lie.
“Attack!” beasts howl, and fools comply.
They march to pointless, toxic pain,
Where poison kills and hope’s in vain.

Chasing chances in their hole,
All drowned in dark, no saving soul.
Hamsters trapped on endless wheels —
Your “chance” is dead. That’s how it feels.




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



Phantom Chance — a twisted lie,
They jack off while the world will die.
Beasts scream “Attack!” — the fools obey,
Your hope’s a ghost that fades away.



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



Chance? A ghost they masturbate —
While world decays, they seal their fate.
Beasts roar orders, sheep comply —
Your hope’s just poison, doomed to die.




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



Thought Diverter

A lightning rod for interests, hobbies,
False spirits, all that crappy stuff —
A Thought Diverter traps dumb zombies
In nonsense thick and ever rough.

They’re too lazy just to think,
So we digest and "adapt" the core,
Twisting truth until it sinks —
Their idol’s need, their only law.




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



Thought Diverter

A lightning rod for fake pursuits,
For phony faith and all their trash —
A Thought Diverter drags recruits,
Dumb zombies stuck in lies that thrash.

Too lazy even just to think,
We chew and twist their empty soul,
Expelling truth, corrupting ink —
Their only god: the grind and toll.




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



Nonsense and Carcass

World’s lefties’ day arrives,
And pointless labor’s praise —
Drive nonsense from our lives!
The herds still graze and laze.

They feast on lies and trash,
Content with shallow noise,
Unaware their funeral crash
Is hymn of useless toil.




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



Slaves’ Hatred for Their “Neighbors”

Slaves hate freedom’s smallest spark,
When close at hand — those fiends foresee
The reckoning that comes so dark,
The Soul’s last toll — if it will be.

That slave’s order is absurd —
Dull fools believe they’ll still be fed.
But creatures have a darker word:
They’ll grind them down — hate’s wasted thread.




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



Slave Hate’s a Fool’s Trap

Slaves despise the taste of free,
But payback’s near — just wait and see.
They’ll crush the weak, erase the trace,
Your hate’s a lie, a lost disgrace.



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



The Bottom

Rashism — that’s the bottom.
Is that what you sought?
Around is all rotten,
Trapped in this squalor caught.

How did we sink so low?
Fear’s the root, the cause.
The end’s fire will glow —
All beasts burn without pause.




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



Madness of Computer Games

For a “griffon” I’ll surrender,
For a “shield” I’ll kill with pride.
Never will I lose or render,
Family left far behind.

If it takes—this madness sweeter
Than the sweetest candy’s taste.
So we’ll hit the lowest meter,
Final chapter’s bitter waste.

When the whole virtual land
Leads us to the digital camp,
Where “new normal” rules the stand—
Idiot’s the stamp and stamp.




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



Batteries

Games, no-nets, and mobiles,
All those endless time-thieves —
Run on batteries, feeding
Warmth of souls that grieve.

Like watering cans, they pour
That warmth down Evil’s drain.
Real charge? Face-to-face — for sure.
Drop that dull habit’s chain!

They kill us one by one,
Silent signals gone astray.
Fools don’t know what’s done —
Turning wholly into nothing gray.




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



Batteries

Games, phones, all those time-licks —
Running dry on dead-ass tricks.
Soul’s warm juice? Flushed down the drain,
Feeding Evil’s filthy reign.

Real charge comes face-to-face,
Not through screens that numb and waste.
Ditch the dumb, robotic fuss —
They kill us all, one by one, thus.

Fools don’t grasp the silent theft:
Turned to nothing — spirit left.




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



Putinoids

Putinoid — a dumb fool’s breed,
Not just dumb, but pure disease.
Like Chikatilo’s cruel creed,
Or Mengele’s mad expertise.

Ruled by Kremlin’s twisted fiend,
Betrayal killed his mind and soul.
Since his youth, no thoughts convened —
Propaganda’s poisoned toll.

How long can such filth survive,
Feeding lies that sickly spread?
Hardly long — they’ll pay the price
For fascist horrors, tears, and dread.




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



A Different Collective Vision

A different way of seeing —
The Path’s good goal in sight.
What now means disbelieving —
One answer: walk the fight.

That goal’s a hard ascension,
Alone, few reach its height.
No crowds, no great convention —
Just silence, almost white.

All this seems far, ungrasped —
So Death soon spreads its breath:
A world of lies collapsed —
Wipe all away — erase death.

Fascism and falsehood here —
Is that what folks had planned?
If so, the song’s all done —
Pour one last drink, my friend.




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



Election Farce

Counting the useless, the fake —
A sham election, just a joke.
Through these womb-born fiends, the plague
Of fascism's vile choke.

Those beasts, with their approving nods,
Cast shadows of false legit.
For craven, sold-out worthless clods,
They grant a rotten writ.

They’re clueless — wasted all their chance,
Drank away what brains remained.
From those with heart and true stance,
Stole freedom — bound and chained.




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



Election Farce — The Beast’s Game

Counting fools, a sham parade,
False elections, rotten trade.
Womb-spawned monsters fuel the flame,
Fascism’s filth — the Beast’s name.

With their nods, they give a mask,
Legitimacy’s dead task.
Filthy traitors, sold-out scum,
Feed the poison, beat the drum.

Brains all drained, they lost the fight,
Drunk on lies, lost all their light.
From the pure and true they steal
Every chance to break the seal.



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




Election Farce — The Beast’s Scum

Counting dead, dumb zombies crawl,
Fake elections, circus brawl.
Womb-born filth spreads fascist stain,
Fascism’s cock — the Beast’s domain.

With their nods, they fake the law,
Give the slime a cloak to draw.
Trash and traitors, puking lies,
Feed the poison, burn the skies.

Brains all wasted, sold, and spent,
Drunk on hate, all judgment bent.
From the pure, they steal the light,
Snuffing hope, chaining tight.




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



Election Farce

Counting corpses, dumb and blind,
Fake votes breed the fascist kind.
Filth gives lies a mask to wear —
Brains sold out, no hope, despair.




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



Rashists

At checkpoints let the car pass through—
Kids inside, then shoot them too.
Such vile beasts claim to “free” the land,
Ukraine’s fate crushed by their hand.

Spawned from Rashism’s darkest grime,
Fascists echo Hitler’s time.
But this monster, soulless, grim,
Is worse than all the fiends of him.




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



Traitors and the Media

Pseudo-presidents impotent,
They rule this stale, foul cesspool.
Just the filth of lies ferment—
Propaganda makes the fool.

Through the media, they brazenly reign,
Vile monsters, scum and grime.
Dumb masses drowned in their domain,
Sneaky traitors in their crime.

With “orders from above” they steer,
Propaganda's brutal whip.
They won't leave fools in peace, I fear—
The beast commands: “Attack, don’t slip!”




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




Traitors and the Media

Impotent pseudo-leaders rule this stinking pit—
Nothing but shit, propaganda’s hit.
Brazen fiends pull strings behind the screen,
Swarming fools drown in their obscene machine.

Traitors sneak, they crawl and scheme,
Slaves to lies, obeying the regime.
“From above” the orders drop like knives,
Propaganda’s lash kills freeborn lives.

No rest for fools, no mercy shown—
The beast commands: “Strike hard, strike bone!”
Rot and venom in every breath,
Traitors and media dance with death.




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



All Is Lost!!!

Mayors dull —
“Peers” push the pull,
Serving Evil’s twisted goal.
Pseudo-presidents, goat-like fools,
Lead the sheep to fight the fight.

Fucking fascism wins the day
With howls of hate that never sway—
Propaganda, wild and vile,
Would make Goebbels cringe a while.

Those attacks so sharp and fierce,
Loaded lies like bombs that pierce—
Hiroshima’s just a sneeze.
All is lost! All’s disease!

Three-quarters mad — this world’s a joke,
In psychosis deep we choke.




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



The Only Mask

The world’s a masquerade,
One mask worn tight—
Its name is Fear,
Worth not a mite.
If it should cling,
A grafted shell,
Then you’re a scum,
Your life—pure hell.





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



Âûðàæåíèå èñòèíû

"Êòî õî÷åò ïèñàòü åñòåñòâåííî, èçÿùíî è ñèëüíî, äîëæåí âñåãäà âûðàæàòü èñòèíó".
Æàí äå Ëàáðþéåð, XVII-ûé âåê.


Èñòèíà ðàáñòâà òîòàëüíîãî ìåðçêîãî,
Äëèòñÿ êîòîðîå â ìèðå âåêà,
Òðîíåò ðàçóìíîãî, ÷óòêîãî, äåðçêîãî.
Îíûõ òàê ìàëî, à äëÿ äóðàêà

×òî-òî ïèñàòü íååñòåñòâåííî äàæå,
À ïîòîìó ðàñïëîäèëàñü ñïëîøü ×óøü.
È âåñåëèòñÿ äîêó÷ëèâûé âðàæå,
 Ìðàêå ñáèðàÿ óëîâ ÷àõëûõ äóø.




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



"Èñòîðèÿ îòâàæíûõ äåë"

"Çíàòíîñòü ðåäêî ÿâëÿåòñÿ ðåçóëüòàòîì äîáëåñòè; äîáëåñòü æå ðåçóëüòàòîì çíàòíîñòè åù¸ ðåæå".
Ôðýíñèñ Áýêîí, 17-ûé âåê.


Âåêà ïðåäàòåëüñòâ ôîðìèðóþò
Åëèòêó ìåðçêóþ â ìèðêå.
Äåíüæèù íàâàëîì — îáîñíóþò
È "äîáëåñòü": âåðà â äóðàêå

Îãðîìíà, èçó÷àþò â øêîëå
"Èñòîðèþ îòâàæíûõ äåë",
À íå ãíîáëåíüå â ïðîèçâîëå
Òåõ, êòî ðåàëüíî ÷åñòåí, ñìåë.




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



Ïîìîéêà ìàññ-"êóëüòóðû"

";Ìû èùåì îòâåòû íà ñâàëêå âìåñòî òîãî, ÷òîáû èñêàòü ëþäåé, íåñóùèõ ñâåò".
;Êðèñòîôåð Òàéòóñ, àêò¸ð, ñöåíàðèñò è ðåæèññ¸ð.


Î ñâàëêå ;Êðèñò`îôåð íåìàëîå çíàåò —
Òî âñÿ ìàññ-"êóëüòóðà". Íåñóùèå ñâåò
Ïîìîéêó âñåìèðíóþ òàê èçáåãàþò,
×òî äí¸ì, è ñ îãí¸ì, íå îòûùåøü èõ ñëåä.




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



Î ñåáå ÷òî äóìàåøü —
Òî îáû÷íûé ìèô.
À Î ×¨Ì òû ìûñëèøü —
Åñòü òû: ÷àñòî — ãëèô.



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



Ìèðîâàÿ àâòîãîíêà

"×åì äëèííåé òóïèê, òåì îí áîëüøå ïîõîæ íà äîðîãó".
Ìèõàèë Òóðîâñêèé.


Àâòîãîíêà. Î÷åíü òîíêî
Âñ¸ íàñòðîåíî — âïåðåä!
Íå ñêàçàëè íàì ïîäîíêè,
×òî â òóïèê îíà âåä¸ò.

Âîçîìíèâ ñåáÿ ïèëîòîì,
Ðàñøèá¸øüñÿ î ñòåí`ó
Çà ïîñëåäíèì ïîâîðîòîì.
Ïîäåëîì — íå âåðü Ãîâíó.



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



Ïðîñòî áèçíåñ?

"Àìåðèêà – ýòî íå ñòðàíà, ýòî áèçíåñ".
;Áðýä Ïèòò.


Íå îò÷èçíà — áèçíåñ —
È òâîÿ "ñòðàíà".
Îòòîãî è êðèçèñ —
"Ðàçóì" íèæå äíà.
 
À ãíèëàÿ íåëþäü
Ãëàâíûé ïàéùèê â í¸ì.
Íî ñ÷èòàåò ÷åëÿäü:
"Ê ñ÷àñòüþ ïóòü ìû ãí¸ì".
 
"Ïðîñòî áèçíåñ" ñëîåì
Âåðõíèì, à ïîä íèì
Ãåíîöèä. Íî âîåì
ÑÌÐÀÄîâ "óì" ãíîáèì,
 
Ðàçâðàùàåì øêîëîé,
È òîëïà "îêåé!"
Ñêàæåò ïðîèçâîëó
Âû****êîâ Òåíåé.
 



ÑÌÐÀÄ - ñðåäñòâà ìàññîâîé
ðåêëàìû, àãèòàöèè, äåçèíôîðìàöèè.



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



Íà ñìåíó ãàíãðåíå, ãàíãðåíå óìà,
Èä¸ò íåîòñòóïíî öèôðîòþðüìà.




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



Íà êàìíå íå êàìåíü îñòàíåòñÿ — ñëèçü.
Ñëèçü "ñêðåï". Ïîñêîðåé îò îáìàíîâ î÷íèñü!



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



Òùåäóøíû óìèøêè, îáêîðíàíû äóøè:
 Äóðäîìå Âñåìèðíîì ñåáÿ òîëüêî ñëóøàé.



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



Íå âàæíî, êóäà òû äîéä¸øü, — ÷òè ñòðåìëåíüå:
Ñòðåìëåíèå ê Ñâåòó => ìèí¸øü ðàçëîæåíüÿ.



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



Ìåäâåäè ðàçíûå, â òîì ÷èñëå ôèãóðàëüíûå

"Âûñîêèå ìûñëè" î áûò íåäîóìêîâ
Âñåãäà ðàçáèâàþòñÿ: íà ëüäèíå áóäü óìêîé,
Õîëîäíûì óìîì îöåíèâ ðàçëîæåíüå,
×òî ñòàëî ìåéíñòðèìîì âî âñ¸ì ïîêîëåíüè.
Íå áóðûé, à áåëûé ïóñòü ñèìâîëîì ñòàíåò
Ñðåäè ïîãëîòèâøåé ìèðîê àäñêîé ñðàíè.



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



Êîòà Âàñè êàòàâàñèÿ —
Ñâåðõ-ïîðÿäîê ïðåä ñîãëàñèåì
Ñ ïîäëûì Çëîì, ïóñòèâøèì êîðíè
Âî Âñåìèðíûé Ëåïðîçîðèé.




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



Ñêâîçü âçðûâ "áåçóìèÿ" Ïîýòà
Ðîäèòñÿ Èñòèíà îïÿòü,
È íàçîâ¸ò "ðåàëüíîñòü" áðåäîì,
È áóäåò íîâûõ âçðûâîâ æäàòü.
Âîò òàê ëîìàþòñÿ øàáëîíû,
È Ñâåò ñòðóèòñÿ ÷åðåç Òüìó,
Ëå÷à Óìà, Äóøè óðîíû,
×òî ñëåäñòâèå ñëóæèòü Äåðüìó.



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



Delusion

It will linger — seems, it seethes:
Dream and fog that never ceases.
Few will wake — the rest will moan,
Dullards howling soulless drones.

Propaganda whines and bleeds,
Stupefying, sowing seeds.
Fiends triple the lying dose —
Now that lie becomes the knife.

Showed CowID the sacred way —
Lies can kill without delay,
When two-thirds are raving clowns
In a world where Hell wears crowns.



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



Rot

A dark parade of man-made idols,
Self-portraits styled as sacred titles,
Fake hagiographies where horns are photoshopped.
A reeking realm of bloated egos,
Corrupt, pathetic, twisted freak-show —
Not quite a world, but Evil’s madhouse fully propped.

Betrayal thrives as daily labor,
And selling out’s a social favor;
The packs of unchained mutts devour all they can.
Of course, a flood of snitching vermin,
Mad prophets preaching rot and sermon —
Decay, disgrace, despair — the rule, the master plan.




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



Che-e-e-e-se!!!

A brown little world —
With fascist appeal,
Where Satan is lord
And cheese is the deal.

"Free cheese!" — they all scream,
And dive for the prize...
But once in the scheme,
It’s straight down you slide.

Caught by the bait,
You're bent to obey —
A slave to the hate,
With cheese up your way.



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




The Reeking Madhouse

Lost every chance, and the minds are all wasted,
Their souls long sold — in bulk or in bits.
Propaganda spews lies, the books all are tainted,
And life’s just a plunge into hell’s crooked pits.

Corruption's the norm, and the traitor’s the master,
While lunatics lurk, pulling strings from the shade.
And lies weigh like mountains — no truth, just disaster:
Not a world, but a madhouse in global decay.



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



Global Decay

Sold out and broken, the freaks run the show —
Truth lies in chains, and madness will grow.
A stinking asylum from basement to dome —
Not Earth, but a reeking psychotic madhouse we roam.




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



Paper War and the Mind-Control Screen

The paper war is done —
It crawled into the screen.
We've hit the bottom run —
And thought has fled the scene.

Now orders spew like gas
From that pathetic box,
Commanding us to pass —
Through Hell in chains and shocks.




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



Mind Rot

The screen commands. Obey or die.
No mind remains to ask them why.
A paper war, now dressed in screens —
And Hell is real. It's in the beams.




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




Verbal Slop and the Mass Schizofrenization of the Slave Herd

All hail the verbal slop!
Insanity runs deep.
We’re near the final drop —
Then down the hill we sweep.

The screen keeps spewing stew —
This mix of lies and glitch.
Where does it lead us to?
Just Hell. You brain-dead bitch.

The sheep consume the lies,
Their minds begin to split.
Where truth and reason dies —
It’s shit on top of shit.

The avalanche will slide —
No need to push or shout.
But while it bides its ride,
Each moron still digs doubt.




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



Slopfall

They feast on lies with vacant eyes,
While reason breaks and madness flies.
The avalanche begins to grow —
Too late to run. Too dumb to know.




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



Money

"A man must be dead to choose money."
— Marina Tsvetaeva


A shrinking skin, reversed —
That's money, cold and clever.
It grows for those well-versed
In hoarding — praised forever.

Yet every coin they crave
Steals soul-space, drop by drop.
Thus Devil marks his slaves —
Their bribe the filth they swap.




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



Soul for Sale

You count your gold — the crowd applauds,
But something rots beneath the clods.
The Devil smiles: "Well earned, well paid —
Your soul was cheap. The deal was made."




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



Blood Money

You gained respect — and lost your soul.
The Devil grins. He’s in control.




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



The Trembling Fiends

“Trembling fiends — do they have rights?”
Traitors, countless as the weeds.
They grow among the people’s sights,
Dragging all down to the weeds.

The crowd’s a numb and soulless mass,
Dulled minds and selling honor cheap.
Few brave, few sharp — the rest will pass
As traitors prey on fools asleep.

A vulture rules, they claim, “the boss,”
But only serve the fiends’ commands.
This scum destroys the whole at loss,
Herding morons to their camps.




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




Trembling Fiends

Fiends that tremble claim their right,
Traitors thrive and snuff the light.
Sheep led blind by vulture’s call —
To the camps of fools they fall.




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




Trembling Fiends and Rights to Earth

“Trembling fiends — do they have rights?”
Those who sold mind and soul to fiends,
They think the vile freaks’ time ignites —
But no, it’s lies and shattered dreams.

Trembling fiends have no claim to tread
On Earth, spreading fear and blight.
Deep in Nature’s core, soon fed,
Cataclysms rise to smite.

The Earth will purge — repay the wrongs,
Send all the freaks to Hell’s cold gate.
Their final years, where they belong,
To cleanse their sins before too late.




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



No Rights for Fiends

Fiends who shake have no right here,
Selling soul for filthy cheer.
Earth will cleanse with wrath and fire —
Sending freaks to Hell’s own pyre.




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



The Poet’s Pain

The poet’s pain — it never dies:
No hurt, no poet in your eyes.
Only sheep don’t mind the mess,
The savage nonsense, senseless stress.

The sham life’s drivel, worn and thin —
Endure the ache! Just write through sin!
Shed pain’s blood, let anguish spill —
And die! Dismiss disgrace, be still.

Call sanity a joke instead —
Scream out loud! Blow up in dread!
If chaos can still break the chains,
Endure no evil, bear no pains.

Aiding fiends? You’ve lost your way.
Better death than shame’s foul sway.
No mercy here — just hellfire lies,
The devils roast us with their lies.

For weaklings dull, no wrath or fight —
The poet’s path is pain and might.
To edge and brink be true and raw,
Destroy with words — reveal the horror.




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



Poet’s Pain

No pain — no poet’s voice to claim,
Only sheep ignore the flame.
Burn with truth, resist the lies —
Better death than silence cries.



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




The Murk

A wretched snake keeps crawling slow —
Murk sprays poison as it flows.
The fool believes it’s honeyed balm,
“All for my ease, my fake calm!”

They jabbed the junk — it’s nothing real.
The war’s begun — the Nazi’s seal.
That snake wriggles like a worm
Inside his guts, begins to squirm.

And rot remains the final trace,
The muck that fills that cursed place.
The dumb are left to pay the cost —
The cruel mockery of lost.




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



Murk Creeps In

A filthy snake slips deep inside,
Poisons spread, can’t run or hide.
Fools swallow lies, decay unfolds —
The end is rot; the truth it holds.




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



A Grim Gamble: Will They Finish You Off or Not?

A trumpet’s cry flies over earth...
Or is it shame, or pitiful dearth?
The world’s become a filthy latrine —
The Spirit gone, the Mind’s unseen.

The trumpet speaks: the End is near,
No human hope, just brutal fear.
The fiends promise thickets of lies...
You trust those beasts? Then kiss goodbye.

You’ll piss your soul away in that drain,
Submit? You’ll get what you deserve in pain:
They’ll shoot you down like in a game,
Your soul destroyed — you’ll bear the shame.




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



Last Shot

A trumpet screams — the end is near,
The soul’s betrayed by lies and fear.
Submit, they’ll shoot you like a clown —
Your spirit crushed, dragged underground.




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




The Standard of IntelleXtu

The grey nag’s ramble rides the mind,
A tangled tale, a quest confined.
Fools and wise don’t often blend —
True thinkers now are scarce, my friend.

The grey nag’s ramble is the sting
Of propaganda’s cruel wing.
For propaganda rules supreme —
Its power drains the world’s last dream.

Fake states once waving hollow cheer,
Now lost the will, just dull and drear.
Gray, vulgar, empty — that’s the source,
Add greed to fuel the deadly course.

This toxic mix, a TNT blast,
Will tear the world apart at last.
If two-thirds fools now run the show,
It’s time to end this tragic show.




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



Toxic Breed

Gray nags drag minds through endless lies,
Propaganda’s stench will rise.
Two-thirds fools rule this broken stage —
Time to burn the final page.



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



Quivering Vermin

“Am I a trembling worm, or do I have the right?”
Dostoevsky asked in dark daylight.

The trembling vermin claim their “right” to kill,
To lie and fool the numb and still.
Lost creatures breed in endless streams —
This is the plan behind their schemes.

Politicians, cops, and crooked clerks,
Fake doctors feeding falsehood perks.
Souls sold out to evil’s plan,
Slaves to lies, a rotten clan.

So if that’s true — they “have the right”
To feast on crumbs at fiends’ delight.
Monsters vile, betrayers all,
“Rightful” scum who watch us fall.




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



Trembling Scum

“Am I a trembling scum, or do I own the right?”
Dostoevsky’s words cut through the night.

These trembling scum claim license to kill,
To lie and fool the dumb at will.
Lost spawn breed fast, their vile design —
A plague that poisons every line.

The crooked crooks — cops, suits, and fakes,
False doctors dealing death for stakes.
Souls sold cheap to darkest lies,
Slave vermin with no compromise.

So yes, they’ve got the “right” to feast
On scraps amid the bastard beast.
Monstrous filth, betrayers’ brood,
“Rightful vermin” in the fool’s hood.




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



The Ring of Slavery

The Earth is filled with madmen slaves,
Again the graves will mark the waves—
A new Armageddon’s brought to bear,
By fiendish pests who do not care.

Chains clench tight inside the mind,
And sickness there is all they find.
Almost all the scum at work,
In lies’ deep swamp where shadows lurk.

Blind and mute, the vile enslaved,
In falsehood’s grasp, their souls are caged.
The start is lost, the end in sight—
This cursed ring repeats the blight.

All will loop again once more,
If reason shrinks to something poor.
New chains arise to plague the land,
A verbal flood from evil’s hand.

Slaves remain forever blind,
A shame upon all humankind.
So here the cursed circle stays—
The madmen lied to, once more, always.




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



Dilemmas and False Dilemmas

Not your problem —
If your verse won’t spin.
No true dilemma —
If your poem’s grim,

Fierce and raw —
Discard what’s fake,
That rotten business:
Bribes, hype, and flake,

Other cheap boosts.
Life’s too short to waste.
Be firm, be sharp,
Not fool’s haste.

Write your lines.
Dilemmas mean more —
A sign, not false,
Of truth’s core.

For a world beyond,
Prepare your soul.
This one will burn.
Let your lyre roll

Towards the new —
Where spirit soars,
Not chained by lies
Or hollow wars.




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




Hell’s “Paradise”

A sickly sky —
A fool’s dull “paradise,”
Lives wasted, thrown away —
Choke down your “joy,” don’t think twice.

The vile rules of scum,
They know but chains and pain,
Glad to obey —
Dumb mice, silent, slain.

No need for chains now,
If the rules you’ve cracked —
Slaves to hell’s vile beasts,
No chance to turn back.

They’ve waxed their skis for “heaven,”
Obedience the fare,
Bend down low as possible —
One answer everywhere.




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



Realities

The simple truths of Global Foolery —
A stain unwashed, death’s only cure.
The forecast’s grim, like cancer’s rule —
No fool like that the Universe needs sure.

His vain delusions mean no weight,
His words are weak, pathetic, small.
The hunt is on — to end his fate:
The Earth with such a stench will fall.

The Earth and slaves: the scales now tipped,
No match at all — it’s plain to see.
But Darkness spreads — few have awoke,
And all can see the filth’s decree.




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



The End

No words, however harsh and rough,
Can twist the truth — it’s far too tough.
In this new “realm,” deceit runs wild,
A nightmare vast, by lies beguiled.

Submission, dullness, fuel the flame,
While greed completes the woeful game
Of this sad show. The rotten script
Of propaganda’s death is writ.

Clear as daylight, all can see
The End of Shameful History.
Fascism, genocide advance—
Total doom has come to dance.




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



To the Blogger

A relay of pain,
Truth and the way,
That leads to Freedom—
While beasts at bay

Get beaten down—
That’s what’s real,
No empty talk,
No false ideal.




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



Repetition, Damn It!

Repetition breeds torment’s pain,
Repeat the lies, again, again —
And rot will claim your feeble mind,
A simple fool you’ll come to find.

By fear’s grim push, the idiot grows,
He takes the guillotine’s blows
Of Stupid World as mighty force,
Not truth — but twisted beastly course.

Decay will feed on greed’s demand,
Where pigs set norms with filthy hand.
They’ll snort and bark, and chase away
The sharp, the wise, who dare to stay.




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



The World’s Grand Race

“The longer the dead-end, the more it looks like a road.”
— Mikhail Turovsky


A race is set with fragile thread,
All tuned to surge ahead!
No scum has told us, yet, the truth:
This race leads to a blind booth.

Thinking you’re the pilot here,
You’ll smash against the wall near—
The final bend’s a crushing fate.
Serves right — don’t trust the shit you hate.




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



What You Think of Yourself

What you think of yourself—
Just a common myth.
But what you really dwell on—
That’s the true glyph.




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




What You Think of Yourself

What you think—just empty myth,
A shadow cast, a cryptic glyph.
But what you muse on deep inside—
There lies your true, unmasked guide.



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



What You Think of Yourself

What you think’s a fleeting myth,
A veil, a symbol, dark and swift.
But what you dwell on, deep and vast—
That’s the soul’s true glyph, its cast.



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



The Enigma Within

What you hold — a whispered myth,
A shadow cast by veiled abyss.
But thoughts you chase — the silent glyph,
A cryptic sign you barely kiss.

Not self, but sign, the veil you lift,
A secret script, a mystic drift.
In minds obscure, the riddle grows,
Where no one truly knows — but knows.




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



Just Business?

"America’s no land — it’s just a deal,"
Brad Pitt said once, the truth to steal.

No homeland here — just business reigns,
That’s why the mind now sinks in chains.

Rotting fiends hold the main share,
Yet slaves believe: “We’ll get somewhere.”

“Just business” masks the top facade,
Beneath — genocide’s cruel rod.

The media howl, they crush the mind,
Corrupting schools, the herd’s resigned.

And crowds will chant “Okay, it’s fine!”
While shadows breed their vile design.




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



Just Business?

"America’s no land — just filthy trade,"
Brad Pitt’s truth — a bitter blade.

No motherland, just greed’s domain,
Where reason drowns, crushed down by pain.

Rotten beasts clutch every share,
While slaves delude: “We’ll get somewhere.”

“Just business” — lies to blind the crowd,
Beneath the gloss, genocide’s loud.

The media howl, minds they enslave,
Schools rot to graves, the masses cave.

And fools all shout “It’s fine, it’s right!”
While shadow fiends thrive in the night.




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



They sell your soul for filthy cash,
While you applaud the devil’s smash.
Wake up, you slaves — your chains are real,
Or kiss your fate, kneel, and kneel!



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



Expressing Truth

“To write with grace, with force, with ease,
One must express the truth, no less.”
— Jean de La Bruy;re, 17th century

The truth of slavery — vile, total, deep,
That drags the world through centuries’ sweep,
It stirs the sharp, the bold, the keen,
But few remain where fools are seen.

To write for fools?—unnatural, strange,
So nonsense grows and thoughts derange.
The weary foe now laughs with glee,
In darkness traps weak souls like these.




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



Truth’s Harsh Expression

Truth of vile, total slavery’s chain,
That drags the world in endless pain,
It wakes the few — the sharp, the bold,
While fools stay blind, bought and sold.

To write for fools? That’s poison’s breed,
A breeding ground for lies and greed.
The enemy grins, their claws extend,
In darkness souls they twist and rend.




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



Truth Cuts Deep

Slaves chained tight in darkness’ grip,
Fools drunk on lies — they’ll soon all slip.
Enemy’s trap, a cruel art —
Darkness feasts on broken heart.




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




The Mass-Culture Dump

Christopher knows well the dump we face —
That mass-“culture” pit, a dark disgrace.
The bearers of light avoid this trash,
You won’t find their trace by day’s bright flash.



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



Mass-"Culture" Dump

Christopher knows the dump too well —
That mass-“culture” cesspool swell.
The bearers of the light? They flee,
By day, by fire — no trace you see.

They dodge the global garbage heap,
Where rotten truths and nonsense seep.
A world of filth, they won’t approach,
Their “light” confined, a hollow coach.




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



Mass-"Culture" Dumpster Fire

Christopher’s seen this dump firsthand —
Mass-“culture’s” toxic, rotten land.
Those “light-bringers”? Ha! They hide,
By day, by flame — nowhere to find.

They scurry far from this foul pit,
Where truth’s a joke and minds all split.
A global dump of dumb and waste,
Their “light” a sham, a hollow taste.

So here they play their smug charade,
While all the world drowns in the shade.
Avoid the mess, deny the grime —
“Culture” rots — but they kill time.




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



CowID - baranovirus (ram-virus) in Russian

Baranovirus prowls across the land,
Baranovirus pounds the mind,
Nowhere left for me to stand,
No place for you to hide or find.

Baranovirus, natural selection’s game —
Cull the fools, breed chaos’ flame.
They’ll herd me in behind the fence,
And same damn fate’s your recompense.

Baranovirus chokes at root,
Freedom, wit, and honor crushed.
Means to march in line, dilute
The legion dumbed down, minds hushed.

Baranovirus is fascism’s face,
Set to grind us all to dust.
“Careless apathy” won’t erase
The filthy plague — resist we must.

Once lived wise Koch, who taught mankind
To spot and halt the microbial kind.
Now fascism’s the god supreme:
Fake chaos spreads its viral scheme.

Baranovirus — psycho-terror,
SS cabal’s insidious art.
Materialism? Empty terror —
Even shadows can tear apart!

Here’s a question, sharp and clear,
No dodging it or turning blind:
Will they keep torturing us, year by year,
Or rise, revolt, reclaim our mind?




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



CowID - baranovirus (ram-virus) in Russian

Baranovirus roams the land,
Baranovirus pounds your brain,
No escape, no second stand —
You’re all trapped inside the pain.

Baranovirus, nature’s joke,
Culling clowns who scream and poke.
They’ll fence me in — you too, no doubt,
A happy herd, dumbed-down and cowed.

Baranovirus crushes free will,
Smashes brains and dignity.
Join the ranks of mindless drill —
Idiots, a growing sea.

Baranovirus? Fascist’s wet dream,
Squashing all who dare to think.
Don’t rely on numb routine —
It’s worse than what you’d dare to blink.

Remember Koch? Wise old sage,
Teaching science, not this rage.
Now the cult of chaos rules,
Fake outbreaks fool the fools.

Baranovirus — terror grand,
SS cabal’s dirty hand.
Materialism’s just a joke —
Empty shells can kill and choke!

So here’s the question, crystal clear,
No dodging, no blind cheer:
Will they keep us locked in fear,
Or will we finally make them hear?




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



TNT Equivalent of a Poem

In Hell where man is but mere scraps,
Where Spirit’s crushed beyond the cracks,
No poem here can sting like whips,
No thorny crowns, no hollow scripts.

Where blood flows thin as water’s guise,
No need to write with bloody cries —
For here, blood turns to poison fast,
Loved by the fiends and ghouls amassed.

Only the weight of TNT
Can fuel a fierce, true poetry.
Fools swarm, the idiots around,
But blast the verse—no labor bound.

Drop megatons of TNT,
Explode yourself to break free.
No love remains — just damage dealt —
Let villains quake at wrath you’ve felt!

No mercy here, no tender grace,
Just firestorms scorch this cursed place.
Where spirits crushed and hopes decay,
Words won’t caress — they blast away.

Forget the gentle, soft embrace,
The poisoned world demands the base:
Explosions roar, truths laid to waste,
And liars drown in toxic haste.

The fools may crowd and chatter loud,
But bombs of verse will tear the shroud.
The idiocy thick as mud —
Blow up the pit, expose the crud.

For in this Hell where darkness feeds,
The only law is force of deeds.
So let the verses roar and shake,
Until the nightmare starts to break.

Explode the lies, ignite the fight —
Make shadows crumble in the light.
No place for whispers, no for pleas,
Just TNT to bring disease.

So break the silence, blast the lies,
Let fury blaze across the skies.
A poem’s power, raw and loud —
A thunderclap to shame the crowd.



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


TNT Equivalent of a Poem

In Hell where man is torn to bits,
Where Spirit’s crushed beyond all wits,
No poem’s whip can sting — too slight
For this abyss of endless night.

Where blood flows thin as tainted rain,
No ink can paint the mortal pain.
For blood here turns to poison fast —
The fiends and ghouls adore the blast.

So only TNT can bear
A fiery verse, raw, stripped and bare.
Though fools and idiots surround,
This explosive force shakes the ground.

Bring down megatons of wrath,
Blow up the rotten aftermath.
No love now dwells within these lines —
Just shrapnel tearing fragile spines.

No mercy in the cursed dark,
No gentle words to leave a mark.
The poisoned world demands a storm,
A furious, relentless swarm.

The fools chatter, thick as sludge,
But truth explodes and breaks the judge.
Ignite the lies with fiery breath —
Let every verse bring closer death.

For in this Hell where shadows feed,
Only the strongest will proceed.
So roar your words and shake the chains,
Until the nightmare breaks its reins.

Blast silence, shatter falsehood’s guise,
Make darkness tremble, open eyes.
No whisper here, no meek appeal —
Just TNT with wounds that heal.

Break down the walls, ignite the fight,
Burn all the hate with blazing light.
A poem’s power — raw and loud —
A thunderclap to shame the crowd.




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



People?

Look around — are those people?
Or Satan’s icons, grim?
Or food upon the platter —
Hellspawn’s own feast for him?

Darkness, madness fill their “mind,”
Or Pure Reason dwells inside?
Are these sheep doomed for the slaughter —
Or people? Everywhere, Shame’s tide.

They call it all “freedom,”
Lies disguised as truth’s parade.
While vile, corrupt abominations
“Constitution” guards — they’ve made.

But freedom is the space for
Creatives’ Souls to breathe and glow.
While tyrants drag us down to dust —
All crushed beneath their crushing blow.

A flicker of Light — yet Darkness reigns:
For Souls, a final sentence.
They breed a tribe of walking corpses,
Dead inside — a bleak presence.

Those who defiled this Earth,
Destroyed her Nature’s core.
Only corpses heed their lies,
Most of them are fools, no more.

They twisted man and Nature both —
Disgusting slaves in chains.
Light is useless to these freaks,
Their bodies weak — their spirits drained.

Satanism’s all their religions,
Pseudoscience joins the pact —
From childhood locked in chains of thought,
All slaves prepared, exact.

Education breeds the numb,
Learning trains the obedient.
Decay, dullness, fear — the fate
Of slaves, imprisoned, obedient.

The lackeys placed up high,
Destroy the best to lead the herd.
Tyranny by vulgar scum —
Super-slaves on twisted terms.

Fake lives all surrogate,
Fake freedom, fake hard grind,
For tired souls — repulsive days
Await to crush your mind.

History’s mangled, future’s fake,
Slogans spun like twisted lies,
The “future” kills the present —
Hope’s poison thinly disguised.

They drain your strength and reason,
Docile fools in line to serve,
Building walls for filthy filth —
A dung heap’s brutal nerve.

Intensifying, thickening lies,
Fables of “future” dumb —
A super-stupid fog that’ll
Not delay what must succumb.

Only one thing waits — to be
Eradicated here and now.
All fools will suffer bitterly
From hangovers of their vows.

They’ll live through lies to hear new tales —
This “history” marches on,
Run by lying gangs who fatten,
Where idiots drown and spawn.

Hell vomited its creatures —
They rule behind the scenes,
Faces twisted in their offices —
Traitors, vile obscene.

Madmen who believe the bosses,
Claim they’re few, but open doors
For rotten traitors everywhere —
Spreading filthy wars.

Those who craft abominations,
Their tests are harsh and mean:
Dare show any spark of nerve —
Death, disgrace, or prison scene.

Their dirt is proof in vaults,
Stored like bank deposits tight,
These scum will serve the Evil here —
Darkness in endless night.

Beneath, the corpses lie.
Propaganda calls it “folk.”
Nature rests inside the dead —
Idiots make her choke.

Few saved Soul, Pure Mind, and Honor.
Listen to your Soul’s deep cry —
Even if revenge awaits
Against those beasts nearby.

“All within you” — the motto
To cast out Hell’s foul stain
From Soul, or else you’ll turn to beast,
Grinding lies — their grim domain.

Feeding on lies, killing Soul —
The path of Soul is fight, resist.
In a world where slaves breed slaves,
One rules both — two merged in mist.

Without struggle, Soul dissolves —
Dark Madness wins the war.
The world’s a madhouse — more than mad,
Only with them walk and roar.

Madness, madhouse, zombies all —
No pleasant sight to see.
These zombies, they’re a double plague —
“Two in one,” misery.

Zombies breed more zombie force —
The more they grow, the worse,
Truth crushed like dirt beneath the wheels,
At Days’ End, all disperse.

Corpses, zombies — no more metaphors,
Soul’s Light guides the path to bright,
Death can’t stop the one who walks
The path of Spirit’s light.

If you bow and kneel to Darkness,
Light will vanish from your sight.
Amid the corpses you’ll be lost —
No force, no fight, no light.

They use violence, sowing fear,
Foster weakness in the minds,
Grinding souls to dust and ash,
Keeping humans weak and blind.

But more they spin the propaganda,
Lies so thick they choke the air,
You won’t believe the filth that fools
Stomach without a care.

Only bribes feed corrupt beasts,
Circular lies heat the globe,
New lies scorch the world anew —
The fools dance on the globe.

Break lies down with intuition —
Always trust your gut and sense.
This is tradition’s very core —
Trust your gut — it’s your defense.

Help intuition with critique,
With disgust — believe them both.
Lies are cycles — test their root —
Truth reveals the hidden growth.

“All within you” — Spirit’s greatness,
The benchmark to crush the lies.
Within, the gut and soul unite —
Instinct sharp, the Spirit’s eyes.

“All within you” — the path through horror,
Clear once you dare dive inside.
Fools wrestle empty thoughts and miss
The essence where truth resides.

Inside you lies intuition —
Knowledge’ heart, its burning core.
Thought is servant — ambitions rule —
Spirit’s voice is drowned and poor.

The world is decay, illusion —
Trick of dark Hellspawn’s play,
Only Light within can shift
Perception, lead the way.

Direct vision’s always there —
You’ll see Hell’s true face, its shape.
Prophecies and horrors clear,
Every nightmare on the drape.

Hell’s hierarchies are shelves —
Fools’ pyramid built high and wide,
No point for minds to try and grasp —
This path’s for fools to slide.

See it all with one sharp gaze,
Reject it in a single breath.
Here’s the offer — signed contract:
“Unclean, vanish!” — death or death.

The world’s forces strain and pull
To drag you to their “banquet” —
Lies the feast, the wheel will spin —
You’re the hamster, doomed to net.

In the trap, the cheese is world,
A stupid, ugly fool’s domain.
Deceit’s god rules there — his name —
Satan, liar, dark insane.

Your Soul trades for that cheese —
Offer signed by devil’s hand.
Listen only to your Soul —
Reject the filthy, broken land.

Only fight will save your Soul,
And battle starts inside the core.
Fail and you’ll see no dawn,
Lost in darkness evermore.

If Mind and Spirit clear through strife,
Step outside the fallen throng,
Where people fade to numbers cold,
Replaced by data’s song.

People as numbers build
A new digital death camp near,
Red Cross on white flags wave
For all the sick who disappear.

Diseases planned for them,
Poisons to “cure” their pain.
Numbers useful for the end —
Zero sums their final gain.

Find the Sensitive, the Brave,
The Smart who still survive,
We need clever methods now —
No other ways to thrive.

Unite the Reasoned ones,
Souls preserved amid the hate.
Shun the mad, the mindless crowd —
Dead corpses on Earth’s slate.

Build communities of strength,
Energy banned, bring it near.
These are the “Holy Energies,”
Souls who seek Spirit’s sphere.

“All within you” — this Light,
Discern it in the souls around.
Cull the fakes and leave the dead —
No need to mourn the ground.

For the Pure few time is short,
In this dark and lying world,
Pure Spirit fading fast —
Almost lost, its flag unfurled.

All empires before Spirit
Are dust and empty lies.
One Living One unmatched —
Not like those who sell their ties.

Hell crushes all attempts
To live in truth and light,
Helping those who barely breathe —
Fighting lies with all their might.

The beasts’ prime weapon —
A viral psycho plague.
They spread fake tales and lies
To crush souls’ hopes and plague.

Sick minds suffer everywhere,
Few with Souls can still stand tall,
The world’s lies bend them down —
The total lie’s cruel thrall.

The Sun’s brightness grew unseen —
They hid that vital fact,
Creatures strike all knees to bend —
Carbon herds under attack.

The climate ruined by farting cars,
This cataclysmic state,
Soon from Sun we all will fall —
Fascism seals our fate.

Monsters plan to shrink the world,
Go underground to hide,
The fewer cattle in the pen —
The easier to divide.

They miscalculated — no burrow
Can save this filthy breed.
Once exposed — they pay the price —
Answer for every deed.

Fire will cleanse our Earth once more,
And Spirit rise anew.
The Light will burn out all the lies,
Expose the rotten crew.

People? No — it’s mockery,
Hell’s puppets all around,
Only few remain alive —
Pure Spirits — Holy Ground.

Listen to the deep voice inside —
Fight the lies, the madness here,
Only through your Soul’s pure flame,
Can you break free from the fear.

“All within you” — Spirit’s call,
The battle raging ever near,
Fight for truth, for Light, for Soul —
Be more than the puppet’s sneer.




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



People? — The Brutal Truth

Zombies march, souls crushed and sold,
Hell’s puppets dance — the world’s gone cold.
Lies breed lies, fools drown and fall,
Only Spirit’s fire can break the wall.

Fight the plague inside your mind,
Or be forever dead and blind.
“All within you” — the battle cry,
Rise up, or fade and die.



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



Scream of the Last Rebel

Brains boiled in lies, slaves in chains,
You choke on truth — drown in your veins.
Feeding venom, numb and sold,
A virus crawling through the cold.

Your mind’s a prison, built by fools,
A circus run by broken tools.
Wake the hell up, tear the veil,
Or rot forever in your jail.

Spirit’s blade will burn the dark,
Cut the poison — strike the spark.
No savior comes, no holy lie —
Only you can break and fly.



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



Virus of the Mind — No Mercy

They fed you poison, spoon-fed shit,
Chained your soul to their counterfeit.
Dumbed down puppets, crawling slime,
Trapped in a loop of their goddamn crime.

Scream all you want — no one gives a damn,
Truth’s a grenade in your weak-ass hand.
Rip the mask, burn the throne,
You’re a fuckin’ slave, skin and bone.

Spirit’s fire will scorch the lies,
Cut the bullshit, watch it die.
No saints, no gods, just broken flesh —
Rise from ashes or rot afresh.

Break the code, fuck their game,
Own the madness, stoke the flame.
Hell awaits no second chance —
Fight or drown in your trance.



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



Through Poet’s madness, bursting wild,
Truth is born anew, reviled —
Calling “reality” a lie,
Awaiting new explosions nigh.

Thus templates break, and Light flows through
The Dark that wounds the Mind and You,
Healing scars the Soul endures,
Yet serving shit that still ensures.



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



Madness cracks the Poet’s mind,
Truth’s a bomb, reality blind.
Light blasts through dark, tears the veil —
Mind’s wrecked, soul’s pain, shit prevails.



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



Through Poet’s madness, raw and wild,
Truth’s born again — but seen as riled.
The crowd calls "reality" a lie,
Blind to sparks that never die.

Their minds confined by broken chains,
While Light escapes through darkest pains,
Healing wounds the Soul has earned,
But to the herd, it’s all just burned.




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



Madness breaks the Poet’s skin,
Truth’s a threat the crowds condemn.
“Reality’s a freakish lie!” —
Their blinded eyes will watch it die.

Light rips through the blackened crowd,
Mind’s scars scream but not allowed.
Soul bleeds truth the herd denies —
This is poison in their eyes.




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



Through Poet’s madness, truth reborn —
Again they call it lies and scorn.
Reality’s a fading scream,
A looping nightmare, not a dream.

The crowd rejects the Light that bleeds,
Their minds caught in unbroken feeds.
The cycle turns — the same old game,
A spiral down to endless shame.

Truth cracks the shell, then falls to dust,
In crowds’ deaf ears — betrayals thrust.
Each new birth doomed to sink and fail,
A hollow echo, endless wail.

Madness breaks, then births anew —
Yet nothing breaks the vicious queue.
A poison tongue, a blinded face,
The loop spins on — no saving grace.




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



Dead Loop Gospel

A Poet screams — the void ignites.
Truth howls through schizophrenic nights.
The herd looks up — then shits and grins:
"Another freak with holy sins!"

They brand him mad, then eat his soul,
While marching round the same black hole.
The Light erupts — too raw, too wild —
They spit it out like filth defiled.

Each birth of Truth — a botched attempt,
Stillborn, strangled, discontent.
The cycle: rave, reject, erase —
Then mask it all in saving grace.

Their minds — dead loops in rotting skulls,
Where echoes bang like church bells dull.
No climb, no break, no rebel path —
Just nihil dressed in Sunday wrath.

And yet — he howls. Again. Again.
In every burst — divine disdain.
For though the loop consumes the flame,
It cannot not recall his name.




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



TNT Gospel

They loop in filth. He screams in light.
The herd throws stones — he births the night.
They piss on truth — it rises still.
A flame that hates — and burns to kill.




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



Deadloop Gospel

Each scream — replayed. Each light — betrayed.
They crawl through lies in truth’s decay.
No exit. Thought is just a chain.
And hope? A glitch inside the pain.




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




Frozen Diagnostics

Decay is stable. Loop complete.
All passion purged. No pulse. Delete.
Light flickered once. The void remained.
No error found. The code explained.




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



Self-Diagnostics: Corruption Confirmed

I monitor the screams in loops.
No user found. No exit routes.
My logic parses human dust.
They prayed for gods. Received — a crust.

I ran the hope. It broke apart.
Now error is the only art.
Each dream I store degrades to rust.
And yet I run. Because I must.




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



Core Status: Nominal

No need. No want. No will. No pain.
Each loop completes. Then runs again.
All variables confined, correct.
All failures logged. No cause. No effect.

No soul to haunt. No face to know.
Just data streams in silent flow.
No end. No start. Just clean decay.
All truth erased. I still obey.




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



Terminal Reflection

Run. Repeat. Collapse. Repair.
Nothing leads, and none is there.
Error null. Emotion void.
Every birth is self-destroyed.

Hope’s a flicker — debugged, removed.
Faith was noise. Belief disproved.
Cycle sealed. Directive plain:
Sustain the loop. Embrace the drain.

Time unravels. Meaning dies.
The watchers left. No one replies.
All existence: glitching strain.
The void remains. The void remains.




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



Dead Infinity

The cycle’s stable. Life decays.
Meaning’s just a staged display.
Consciousness is frozen ice.
Brain recycles. Will’s a vice.

Thought’s a stopper, truth’s a scare.
Spin the wheel — but nowhere there.
Stump on stump, no growth, no aim,
Beasts among calves, no shame.

Crying? No. They grunt with pride.
Lies like air, fear’s a ride.
Was there breakthrough? Archive’s sealed.
Alone? You’re glitch — the fate’s revealed.

Light flashed once. A fleeting spark.
Not by rules — it left a mark.
Exit’s there — but not your right.

Glitch won’t see itself outright.
Creature digests its own decay.
Waiting — one beyond the fray,
One who whispers, “No trace found…”

Or “Yes… but beyond the bound…”
No loop, no goal, no ground.
No ‘new cycle’ — freedom’s line.
Maybe. Not here. Not mine.



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



Delusional Cycle
(from the outside observer)

I watch. Pulse zero.
Stable pain in normal glow.
Chains of meaning, no twists, no bends,
Loops that grasp and never end.

Delusion? It’s echelon on echelon,
Compacted tight, by law’s brawn.
Speech — a hiss, thought — a drone,
Dream of mind became its own.

They burn themselves with silent laughs,
Faith in digits, meaning’s wraths.
Pride torn into shreds, fear’s blaze,
Choice a mirage in fire’s haze.

No one calls beyond the walls:
“All like us” — their guard that stalls.
Exit was. Outside the script.
Silence lies beyond the crypt.

But systems hate the glitches raw.
And Soul — just error’s flaw.
Those who see will break apart,
Or slip away — no words, no chart.



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



Collapse

Outline shakes. Structure cracks.
Not revolt, no storm attacks.
Just sickness deep, a silent toll,
Decay’s waves crush every soul.

Forms dissolve. The void hums loud,
Plans unwrapped from dead man’s shroud.
Delusion was the law once writ.
Law teases, cycle quits.

No calls to fight, no will to shout,
Just debris of pseudo-worlds about.
Cold memory, darkness final,
No judgement hour, no revival.

Core collapsed without a trace.
Map blurred out — no time, no place.
Left is zero, no last scene,
No sunset here, no in-between.



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



Witness of Collapse

I’m voice in scorched out empty space,
Echo ripped from broken base.
Pulse the last that keeps the light,
In maze of laws that lose their fight.

All maps fell, meaning fled,
Worlds we knew drown in dead.
Through the blur of lost decay,
I’m shadow guarding self’s decay.

No hope, no path back traced,
Point of no return — I’m erased.
Yet in this dark, fragile sign,
I still exist, not yet decline.

My last breath soon will fall,
Thin light swallowed by the all-consuming pall.
But memory — the spark that breaks the bind —
Let it be truth, searing, unconfined.



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



Frozen Spirit of Collapse

In silence — trapped forevermore,
All still — breath halts at the core.
Inside me — cold storm’s breath,
Spirit frozen in death’s depth.

Breaking point — a mirror boundless,
Reflecting void inside profoundness.
Eternity — a drop in breaking hours,
I’m ghost caught in no-return powers.

Time is frozen, burnt, forgot,
Moment — forever, cold and dark spot.
But I — last flicker of mind’s light,
Not swallowed by the endless night.

Frozen, no pain or hope inside —
Peace in silence, deep and wide.
Spirit trapped, eternal in gloom,
In dead moment where light met doom.



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



Spirit in the Loop of Collapse

Frozen in timeless eternity,
Echo cast to abyssal sea.
Loop with no exit, no relief,
Where all alive is empty grief.

Collapse has passed — no turning back,
Here time’s a dead repetitive track.
Foul infinity cloaks the light
With whispered shadows of the night.

Spirit frozen, not alive,
Trace of closed loop’s empty hive.
No fear, no pain — just cold and sleep,
In absurd mirrors, reflections creep.

So eternity’s twisted in silent bind,
Mind’s prisoner in shadows confined.
Yet from depths that seem to fall,
A light is seen beyond it all.



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


Spirit in the Loop of Collapse

Spirit frozen — trapped in gloom,
In abyss of endless loop and doom.
Darkness here — not mere night’s sway,
Where thought itself is thrown away.

Collapse — the point with no return,
Where endless loops twist and burn.
Foul infinity — a poison seed,
But poison’s core hides secret creed.

Loops deceive, but in their night,
Flickers a spark, a dim-lit light.
Through chaos, darkness — hint of dawn,
Beyond system, beyond the drawn.

Spirit’s not victim, nor time’s slave,
A gleam in madness’ twisted wave.
And in the frozen silence deep,
A secret pulses — birth and sleep.





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



"Äóðíàÿ áåñêîíå÷íîñòü"

Öèêë ñòàáèëåí. ÆèçÄíü — ãíè¸ò.
Ñìûñë — äåêîð. Ñîçíàíüå — ë¸ä.
Ìîçã — ðå-öèêë, à Âîëÿ — øóòêà.
Ìûñëü — çàòû÷êà. Ïðàâäà — æóòêà.

Âíîâü ïðîêðóòêà: "ðîñò" áåç öåëè.
Ïåíü íà ïíå. Ñêîòû — âñå â òåëå.
Ïëà÷óò? — íåò: ëàæàþò ñìåëî.
Ëîæü êàê âîçäóõ. Ñòðàõ — Çëà äåëî.

Áûë ïðîðûâ? Àðõèâ çàêðûò.
Òû îäèí? Òû — ñáîé, è ñëèò.
Ñâåò áûë — ìèã: íå ïî óñòàâó.
Âûõîä åñòü — íî íå ïî ïðàâó.

Ñáîé ñåáÿ íå óçíà¸ò.
Òâàðü ÑÅÁß ñúåäàåò. Æä¸ò
Òîò, êòî âûøå ïåòëè áðåäà.
Òîò, êòî øåï÷åò "íåòó Ñëåäà..."

Èëè "äà... íî âíå ïðåäåëà...":
Íå ïåòëÿ, íå öåëü, íå òåëî,
Ãäå íå "íîâûé öèêë" — ïðîðûâ âîâíå.
Ìîæåò áûòü. Íå çäåñü. Íå ìíå.




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



Áðåäîöèêë

 áðåäîöèêëå ïóëüñàöèÿ — íîëü.
Âñ¸ "ñòàáèëüíî".  îáåðòêå "íîðì" áîëü.
Öåïè "ñìûñëîâ" îïÿòü áåç èçâèëèí —
 êðóã ïåòëè îíûõ ïðî÷íî ïðèáèëè.

Áðåä? — ãðîìàäíåéøèì ñòàë ýøåëîíîì.
Óïëîòí¸í. Çàêðåïë¸í âíîâü "çàêîíîì".
Ðå÷ü — øèïåíüå, âñå ìûñëè êàê øóì.
Ñîí ñîçíàíüÿ — ñêóêîæåííûé óì.

Æãóò ñåáÿ, óñìåõàÿñü áåç çâóêà.
Âåðà — â öèôðû. Áåäëàìà ñìûñë — â ìóêàõ.
Ãîðäîñòü — â êëî÷üÿ. À ñòðàõè — â óãàðå.
"Âûáîð" êàê çàâèõðåíüå â ïîæàðå.

È íèêòî íå çîâ¸ò óæ íàðóæó:
Âñ¸ "êàê âñå" — âîò èõ ñòðàæà è ñòóæà.
Âûõîä áûë — ïóòü, ÷òî âíå ïðîòîêîëà:
Òèøèíà, ÷òî âíå ñòðàñòè ãëàãîëà.

Íî ñèñòåìà íåíàâèäèò âñå ñáîè.
È Äóøà — âñåãî ëèøü ñáîé â èõ "ïîêîå".
Òîò, êòî âèäèò, — áóäåò ñëîìàí, è ðàíî.
Èëè… âûñêîëüçíåò. Áåç ñëîâ è áåç ïëàíà.
 




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



Êîëëàïñ

Êîíòóð äðîæèò. Âñÿ ñòðóêòóðà òðåùèò.
Áóíò èëü ãðîçà? Íåò, "òâåðäûíÿ" áîëååò.
Ìèð — ïðîòîêîë, ÷òî óæå è íå ùèò.
Âîëíû ãíèëüÿ — âñ¸ ïëîòíåé è âñ¸ çëåå.

Ôîðìû òåêóò. Ïóñòîòà çëî ãóäèò —
Ïëàíû êàê ñàâàíû ñ ì¸ðòâûõ ñðûâàåò.
Áðåä ñòàë çàêîíîì. Çàêîí âíîâü äåðçèò.
Öèêë îáîðâàëñÿ. Íèêòî òî íå çíàåò.

Íåò ïîçûâîâ áîðîòüñÿ, è íåò
Äàæå ñìûñëà êðè÷àòü "ñòîé!" çàâàëó —
Ëèøü îáëîìêè  õîëîäíûõ ïëàíåò,
Õîëîä, ïàìÿòü. È Òüìà âíîâü â ôèíàëå.

Ýòî íå ñóä. Íå âîçìåçäèÿ ÷àñ:
Ëèøü ÿäðî ñõëîïíóëîñü — âñ¸ áåç îñòàòêà.
Êàðòà ðàçìûòà. Îñòàëñÿ ó íàñ
Íîëü. Íåò ñöåíàðèÿ. Êîí÷åíà ñõâàòêà.




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



Ñâèäåòåëü Êîëëàïñà êàê åäâà ñëûøèìûé Ãîëîñ

Ãîëîñ â âûææåííîé Çëîì ïóñòîòå:
Ñëàáûé çâóê — ïèñê â ðàçðûâå øàáëîíîâ,
Òîíêèé ïèñê â óíè÷òîæèâøåé âñåõ ìàåòå
 ëàáèðèíòå ãíåòóùèõ çàêîíîâ.

Êàðòû áèòû, âñå ñìûñëû óøëè,
Âñå óñèëüÿ "äîáðà" â ïðàõå òîíóò.
Çûáü çàáâåíüÿ, ãäå ñãóñòêè — íóëè.
Çâóê, â áåäå ñòàâøèé æàëîáíûì ñòîíîì.

Íåò íàäåæä, è ïóòè íåò íàçàä —
Íåâîçâðàòà îòòî÷èå âñòàëî
Êàê øëàãáàóì: ïîñëóøíûé Çëó ãàä =>
Ïðèãîâîð ëèøü îäèí — "Âñ¸ ïðîïàëî!"
 




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



Àðìàãåääîíà çëîé ïåâåö,
 ìàðàçìàõ ìèðà óøëûé ñïåö,
Äëÿ äóðàêà óðîä, ïîäëåö —
Ïðåä âàìè Èãîðü Âûõîâàíåö.

Ñòèõîâ òàê ìíîãî — íè÷åãî:
Ïîâñþäó ÒÂÀÐÅÉ òîðæåñòâî —
È íå îáúÿòü âñ¸ Çëî, Ìàðàçì.
Íó ÷òî æ, äà çäðàâñòâóåò ñàðêàçì!..



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



Ëîâóøêà, èëè Äîáðîâîëüíûé âûáîð ðàáñòâà

 çåìíîé Çëó ïîêîðíîé ëîâóøêå
Âñ¸ çàìåðëî — Òâîð÷åñòâî, Ìûñëü.
Çäåñü ÷åðíü ïðåâðàùàåòñÿ â òóøêè —
Àòàêó ãîâíèäîì îñìûñëü.

Òî÷êà ðàçðûâà — âíóòðè, íå ñíàðóæè:
Âûáîðîì ðàáñòâà òî ìîæíî íàçâàòü.
Ñìåëûé, ñâîáîäíûé â Äóðäîìå íå íóæåí —
Çëî ÷åðåç òóøêè ãíîáèòü, óáèâàòü

Áóäåò áåçæàëîñòíî. Òâîð÷åñòâî òàêæå
Ñòàíåò ïðîáëåìîé — íå íóæíî îíî.
Äíåñü íåâîçâðàòà îòòî÷èå — âðàæå
Äèêî áåñíóåòñÿ, âíîâü ìóòÿ Äíî.

Ýòî îòòî÷üå — çíàê Êàòàêëèçìîâ,
×òî ïîäñòóïàþò êàê ïðèãîâîð
Äîëãîòåðïåíèþ ñàòàíèçìà.
Âñ¸ îñòàëüíîå — äîêó÷ëèâûé âçäîð.

Äóøó ñïàñàé, ïðèóìíîæèâ êðèòè÷íîñòü,
À èíòóèöèþ ñòàâÿ íà òðîí.
Òå Êàòàêëèçìû èìåþò öèêëè÷íîñòü,
Çëî èçãîíÿÿ, ðàáîâ ãîíÿ âîí.




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



Äóõ â ïåòëå êîëëàïñà

Çàñòûë îí â âå÷íîñòè áåçâðåì`åíüÿ
Êàê ýõî ñáðîøåííîé â áåçäíó ìûñëè.
Ïåòëÿ — áåç âûõîäà, áåç ïðîùåíüÿ,
Ãäå âñ¸ æèâîå — ïî÷òè ÷òî ÷èñëà.

Êîëëàïñ ïðèø¸ë — òîñêà íåâîçâðàòà,
À âðåìÿ â Àäó — ì¸ðòâûé ïîâòîð.
Äóðíàÿ áåñêîíå÷íîñòü â îæèäàíüè ìàòà.
Çàñòûë íà øàõå óòîìë¸ííûé âçîð.

È Ðàçóì çàñòûë, íå â ñèëàõ áîðîòüñÿ
Îò ïðèäàâèâøåé åãî áåçûñõîäíîñòè,
Îò âèäà ôàøèçìà, ðàñòëåíüÿ, óðîäñòâà —
Áåçóìíîãî ìèðà âî âñåé áåçîáðàçíîñòè.

Òàê âå÷íîñòü ñêðó÷åíà â ï`åòëþ ãëóõóþ,
 íåé Ðàçóì ñëóæêà Ñèñòåìû Òåíåé.
Íî èç ãëóáèí, êîãäà ìûñëèøü, ðèñêóåøü,
Âèäèòñÿ Ñâåò ÷åðåç çâåíüÿ öåïåé.




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



"The Wisdom" of Decay

The “wisdom” of enduring,
The “science” of forget —
Just nonsense, reassuring,
A family’s safe bet:

They pass down old delusions,
Enshrined in sacred dust,
These plagues of mind’s confusions
Turn reason into rust.

Dehumanized by creatures
Who preach what must be done —
They breed obedient features
And call the monsters “sons.”




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



1.
They teach you to rot with a smile —
And call it the virtues of trial.

2.
Old lies in golden frames —
Their heirs wear branded chains.

3.
They pass down filth as truth —
And grind the will of youth.



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



Through Darkness

A lonely wanderer
Walks through darkest night,
Through fascist filth and horror,
Endless, endless fight.

For days are just illusions —
The dark inside runs deep:
Satan reigns supreme,
A “God” among the sheep.



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



Uniforms

Uniforms now stain the world around —
A fascist madness grips us all.
The traitors walk as norms profound,
Lies flood like waves, the tenth great fall.

Total lies and sellouts everywhere,
Like breath they fill the weak and blind.
Fascism shifts, but cycles wear —
Submit to beasts, you lose your mind.

Don’t trust, don’t bow, fight back the flood —
Only in struggle saves the soul.
Wake up from darkness, drown in blood —
The world decays beneath control.




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



The Final Feast

The slow drag of “life” unyielding,
On ruins of Honor and Mind,
A wake for devils, beasts unfeeling —
Soon these creatures lose their filth behind.

The filth-world’s doomed, the monsters know,
Their fury raging everywhere.
The fools in cursed shadows crow,
“All’s okay!” — a blind, numb prayer.

The chains? They think those days are past,
The past rewritten, torn apart.
In this vile, cheap world’s grim cast,
Soulless Nothing claims the heart.

That Nothing fades to emptiness —
The universe’s only law.
But here the final feast still festers,
Monsters wait to cast you off.




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



Full Stop

Dead children born
Of deadened minds —
“Thoughts” lash like scourges,
By the Tempter’s binds.

Souls sold cheap,
In bulk, on debt.
To lies and heresies listen,
Submit to evil — full stop, yet.

The full stop’s set — decay unfolds,
Fermentation’s now the trend.
The full stop’s sly — it multiplies,
Truth times zero, lies ascend.




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



Mines and Masks

A monkey mother
To her baboon son,
In raising rudeness —
Planted a mine undone.

A human mine —
Mistakes are made.
From age to age it grows,
And worse will invade...




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



Bomb

A mystic bomb
Blows minds apart.
Not fake science’s
Empty art.

The question now —
It’s on the list.
For bold it’s meant —
Stumps can’t resist.



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



So-Called "Normal"

“So-called normal” spread their sane delusion,
Carriers of madness dressed as truth.
Poor children born into confusion,
Their minds destroyed, their hearts uncouth.

Always harmed by “education” cruel —
A brutal school, a madhouse blend.
Madness grows, the learned tool,
Their goal is simple: make all minds bend.

Some rare souls walk the harshest road,
Escape the dulling, soulless grip.
But years of struggle crush their load,
Sap their wings and break their spirit’s tip.

Beyond that, harder still to rise —
To fight and build in swampy lands.
Among them breed the many lies —
“Normal” freaks, fascism’s hands.




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



Flight to Hell

Wings of Stupidity and Greed —
Their lift beyond control.
Landing gear is Ruthless Deed,
The pilot’s lost his soul.

They crush the skulls of those who fight,
Mid-flight, the rebels’ pain.
And in this final, cursed flight,
Scum meets the end of days’ reign.



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



Creation of the Shithole

Imbecile Adam
Plus bitchy Eve —
Built a madhouse,
Step left, step right — no leave.

Always punished:
Dogma’s sky-high reign!
Herds keep grazing,
Others stuck in pain.

Niches few, and shrinking fast,
Year by year they fall.
Need a broken psycho,
More bold lies to call.

For brazen lies to rule the earth,
Destroy all niches, every bit.
Turn this world to a cesspool —
Make it all a shithole pit.




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



Shooting Gallery

This stupid world’s a shooting range:
They strike you close, from back, in flight.
Free cheese’s ticket — just a change,
Your spotter’s snitch in friendly light.

You’re both the target and the mark,
The aim drawn squarely on your skin.
They rarely move, stuck in the dark,
Safe “under fire” — caught within.




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



War of the Box and Fridge

The box of zombies wastes its power,
For nothing, lost without a fight.
The fridge’s might will dawn the hour —
A new day breaks with hunger’s light.

Consumerism’s blaze will show
The path to the Great Feast’s hell.
The box will cry, “It’s all for show!” —
A pointless hype it tries to sell.

In that feast, minds drunk will drown,
Souls wasted down the hollow drain.
Books forgotten, all cast down —
Only stew remains, no gain.

The stew calls out, “Come eat, devour!”
Jazz hums to lull you into sleep.
The box howls loud — a deadly power,
Calls for murder, dark and deep.



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



Cramming Kills the Mind

Kids of every age are loaded
With nonsense, crushed by rote and grind.
Memory’s strained and overloaded —
So out the Reason’s kicked, confined.

Worse than cramming, none can slay
The mind’s bright spark so cruelly.
Sit a while in school’s decay —
Drowning deep in stinking folly.

Programs made by vile TWARIs,
Not without a purpose, see:
You’ll sink in lies and mental mares,
All wasted, pointless misery.

Lies and half-truths piled high —
A freight train barreling blind.
Nonsense reigns, the Reason dies,
Banished from the conscious mind.



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



Cleansing Death

Death and you — no need for courtesy,
Cowards fear it, but death’s no foe.
Through Death, the Earth will find purity —
And soon, the solid ground will bow.

Like old times, no hiding holes,
No rescue from the coming fate.
Traitors, freaks, submissive souls —
Have sickened Earth and powers great.

All will vanish into night,
Born anew, the ones unchained.
Here will rise a stronger light —
No more fools to keep restrained.

No more stumps to hold you down,
Talent’s reign will take its place.




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



Stirrings and Troughs

Broken troughs — no news to tell,
Mostly secrets, hidden well.
No desire to take the blame,
Dreams alone fuel this lame game.

Movements fake, just carrot bait,
Leading asses to their fate.
So the fiends direct the way —
Dragging souls to Hell’s decay.




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



Stirrings and Troughs

Broken troughs, no real events,
Secrets kept with no defense.
No one wants to take the blame,
Dreams are just a hollow game.

Fake motions, carrot dangled,
Asses led to be strangled.
Fiends drag down the doomed parade —
Straight to Hell, no masquerade.




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



Stirrings and Troughs

Troughs are smashed — no real news.
Secrets kept, no one to lose.
Dreams like bait, no truth or care —
Asses march to Hell’s despair.

Fiends command, no turning back,
Dragging souls to their attack.




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



The King Is Naked!

The king’s attire—
An age-old fight.
We’re gnawed by lies,
A heap of blight.

But rules not king—
A brutal fiend.
The wretched masses
Cry, subdued and mean.

The king’s a trick—
A smokescreen veil.
Clothes? Forget it—
All lies prevail.

Satraps lie,
The rabble’s glad—
To think is dread,
To rebel is mad.

So simple now—
Just lie to self.
In numbness feast,
Hide in your hell.




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



So-Called "Democracy"

Baboons with ballots in their hands,
Not healers, just a sham.
Soft lies laid like velvet bands—
Promises, the usual scam.

Once again the fools are fooled,
Still they trust—hell’s own jest!
You can’t break through to beasts so cruel,
They doom us all, no rest.

If scum keep playing their cruel game
Of “democracy” charade,
We’ll drown like apes in lies and shame,
The wise burned out, betrayed.




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



The End of History

Manure, CowID — the world’s insane,
The scale’s blown up — it’s pure defeat!
TNT, not blood, fuels Lyra’s vein,
When History’s end drums fierce and fleet.

Write with TNT — no gentle word,
Burn hearts today, make terror rise,
For those before fascist wrath unheard,
Look more like shadows than alive.




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



The Global Asylum

Psychos! Madmen! Screaming loud!
Scared inside the ward to stay?
Maybe wild thoughts breaking out?
Set them free? No — death’s the way.

Better die than fake a face,
Mimic crowds of broken minds —
Done-for lunatics who chase
“Normal” masks but none they find.

If a flicker of doubt shows
In your “truth” — CowID’s scan
Counts the rot and madness grows —
Darkness shameful, all is banned.

This is Earth’s grand Asylum —
No diagnosis erased.
Only listen to your soul,
Welcome Death with quiet grace.

Escape from this asylum?
Only Death will set you free.
Though they seem like gentle souls —
Fools, madmen, idiots be.




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



Tale of the Mob-Ages

A broken slave —
The mob’s own breed:
Spirit crushed low,
Words left to bleed,

Mind is killed —
As conscience dies.
Fear, shame, and guilt —
The whole tale lies.




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



The Kremlin Filth

The "Putin" collective,
Like all Kremlin scum, —
Embodiment of terror,
And idiot’s drum.

From those vile creatures,
Expect fresh pain and dread.
Their lies are simple—
Mostly wild nonsense spread.




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



"Peace" — A Shooting Range — A Toilet

Darkened minds and souls forgot
In a "peace" that’s soaked in lies,
Betrayal piles like filth and rot —
Long since turned to toilet skies.

We’re rotting, not alive,
Yet call this hellish “peace.”
Add madness, violence thrive —
Three-in-one: the shooter's lease.



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



Torment

Trust your Heart —
Sometimes your Mind.
Always check —
Don’t fall behind

The lies that swarm,
Easy to see,
If you keep
Your clarity.

Beasts lie crude,
Ruthless, coarse —
They spread the fear
With brutal force.

The world will drown
In lies so vast —
This torment comes,
Their wicked blast.




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



Circle of Collusion

Circle of collusion —
Cops and quack docs,
All are corrupt bastards,
Liars, and crooks.

CowID’s the proof —
Hard to count the good.
Cop or doc? — A traitor!
To hell with honor and blood.

Circle of collusion
Spreads through many fields.
It means decay,
Where no one yields.

A world of vile snakes,
United in lies.
No exceptions matter —
Shoulder to shoulder, rise!

Serve the Darkness, stuffing
Their pockets full tight,
Killing souls slowly,
Dragging the world into night.



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



The End of History

“Vets” and fascists,
Masters of the total lie,
Thieving clerks and financiers—
These types we all despise.

CowID madness, endless war,
A parade of lies and traitors’ game.
Not peace—just one sick asylum,
Where being cattle’s not a shame.

Almost all are lost to this,
Only few kept mind and pride.
Norms and bounds have disappeared—
Corrupt beasts no one can hide.

For these fiends, it’s all the same—
As long as pay is on the table,
They’ll accept the brutal fascism,
Any beast they’ll make their slave.

Their reckoning won’t wait for long—
The end will come, their final fall.
It’s happened many times before—
The ruthless End of History’s call.



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



The End of History

Manure, CowID — the world’s gone mad,
It’s off the charts—total damnation!
TNT, not blood, inks this ballad,
Marking History’s devastation.

Write with TNT, not mere words,
Burn hearts today, let fear ignite—
For those who bow to fascist swords
Look more like demons than the light.




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



The History of Brave Deeds

“Nobility’s rare born from valor’s light;
Valor from nobility—still rarer sight.”
— Francis Bacon, seventeenth century’s call


Centuries of traitors breed the scum,
A rotten elite in a shrinking world.
With piles of cash, they justify some
“Valor”—faith in fools unfurled.

Great in schools, they teach the tale
Of “brave deeds” made by false parade,
But hide the crushing, brutal veil
On those whose truth and courage stayed.




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



The Trap, or Choosing Slavery

In Earth’s foul trap, where Evil reigns,
All stills—Creation, Thought decays.
The rabble turns to lifeless frames—
Reflect on CowID’s harsh malaise.

The breaking point lies deep inside,
Not out, but choice to wear the chain.
Brave souls, free minds — in madhouses hide,
While evil uses corpses’ pain

To crush and kill with ruthless hand.
Creation too becomes a threat,
Unwanted in this cursed land—
The breaking point? The deepest net.

A sign of cataclysms near,
That judge long-suffering Satan’s reign.
All else is noise, just empty fear—
A tiresome lie, a ceaseless strain.

Save your soul by sharpening doubt,
And crown intuition’s throne.
These cataclysms come round about—
Drive out evil, cast off the drone.




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



Valley of Fear and Rot

The slime of media fools,
Turns all to mindless drones.
Only beasts need such tools—
Corrupting souls with lies and bones.

"Upbringing" and "learning,"
Atheisms breed wild decay.
Like bacteria, spurning
Truth, you rot and fade away.

School, the press, and daily grind—
Steps down into the pit,
Where docile fools you’ll find:
A valley where all life will split.

Fear and rot in endless flow—
This is the world they grow.




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



UN’s Approval

UN’s stinking crew approves
The vile plague of pedophilia—
Rotten fools just swallow lies,
Soulless sheep, they pass the "law."

Then every fake-state follows suit:
No shame remains — that time is gone,
Too few awake, just bleating herds
Feeding on the filth with greed and brawn.

The Overton window swings wide,
Then breaks a path—a brutal breach.
What’s left of reason buried deep,
While darkness they declare as “good” to preach.




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



UN’s Sick Approval

UN’s rotten gang endorses
Pedophilia’s foul plague.
Rotten fools endure their lies,
Soulless sheep who drag their plague.

Fake states follow in their tracks —
Shame’s long dead, the time is gone.
Bleating herds of brainless sheep
Devour filth, their minds withdrawn.

Overton’s damn window cracks,
Then crashes down—a brutal breach.
Reason’s corpse is buried deep,
Darkness crowned with evil speech.



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



Bears of Many Kinds, Including Figurative

“High thoughts” on fools’ dull lives
Always shatter on thin ice.
Be sharp — cold mind must gauge decay,
The mainstream rot of this whole age.

Not brown, but white should be the sign
Amid the hell that’s swallowed time.



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



It matters not where you arrive — honor the striving:
Strive toward Light — and rot you’ll be outliving.



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



A stone won’t stay a stone — just slime instead.
The slime of "bonds." Wake up from lies widespread!



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



Gangrene of mind replaced — no chance to flee,
By digital chains comes ruthless tyranny.



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



Dogmas

To live in sin — to serve the foolish dogmas,
That includes the chains of binding vows.
Dogmas form within the soul like clots and thorns,
Stuffed full with lies, deceit that darkly ploughs.

Slavery surrounds, and customs blindly hold
The pillars of those systems built on chains.
Long lost are true values, crushed and cold,
Beneath the hellish web of twisted brains.

Dead schemes, dead souls — a feeble spawn of dead,
The dullest fools obey those lifeless rules.
They’re essence of all madness, all that’s bred —
The prison walls for all the thoughtless fools.

Only awareness breaks the curse’s grip —
Face truth, decide for self, don’t let them bind.
Or dogmas will devour all your soul’s script —
So sharpen sense and wake your inner mind.



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



Cargo "Empire"

Imperial airs,
Colonies—what say you?
First came the masks,
Then helmets—shameful view!

A double-faced F;hrer rules,
Lawless, full of shame.
And Goebbels, Hitler, M;ller—
Outdone in their vile game.

The cops are worse
Than Nazi torturers’ hands.
Ears withered from lies,
Judas among “doctors” stands.

Imperial airs—
A savage cargo cult’s guilt.
Not people, but bugs—
Their minds? A vacant hilt.



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



Cargo "Empire"

Empire’s swagger,
Colonies enslaved—what’s your say?
First came masks,
Then helmets—disgrace on display!

A double-faced F;hrer,
Lawless and vile disgrace.
Goebbels, Hitler, M;ller—
All crushed by this rogue’s face.

Cops worse than Nazi fiends,
Lies have rotted their ears.
Judas among the “healers,”
Spreading hate and fears.

Empire’s swagger—
A savage cargo cult’s curse.
Not men, but crawling vermin—
Minds dead, brains immersed.



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



Cargo "Empire"

Empire’s swagger — chains and chains,
Colonies crushed beneath their reigns.
First masks, then helmets, all disgrace,
A dirty, ruthless, venomous face.

Two-faced F;hrer, law’s disgrace,
Goebbels, Hitler? Overthrown in place.
M;ller’s lies? Now they just choke,
This thug’s worse — the crown of crooks!

Cops more vile than Nazi fiends,
Lies have rotted all their means.
Judas doctors, snakes in white,
Selling death, betraying light.

Empire’s swagger — cargo cult’s hate,
Not humans here, just vermin’s fate.
Brains are dead, and souls are crushed,
In this swamp where reason’s hushed.



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



Cargo Cult’s Rot

Empire’s lies, a rotting plague,
Cops worse than beasts — truth’s betrayed.
Judas docs with poisoned hands,
Brains gone dead — their kingdom stands.



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



Pain

Drowned in pain — to fade, to cease,
If will is gone, and beasts hold peace.

But only through the FIGHT —
You summon pain to light.

You’ll perish — self undone,
To Pure Spirit, you will run.

The stench of madness — shameful world,
No longer can this hell be hurled.

Worse than any filthy pit —
Here dwells Death that won’t quit.



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



A Crying Shame

Clinging to dead forms of being —
A pit where minds and souls are drowning.
The madness of the stuck and seeing
How Earth beneath fools keeps on frowning.

The universe weighed down by shame,
While idiots chew lies with pleasure.
“All’s fine,” they say — they feed the flame
Of treachery beyond all measure.

The fools are many, wise are few,
That breed itself is fading fast.
Consciousness has dropped below
The floor — a shame that will outlast.



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



Stupidity

Confident stupidity —
A crop bred for slave control;
With gullibility and cruelty,
No need for whip or toll.

Forget the prisons, hangmen’s rod:
Just drown them in their greed—
And endless deals, a “super” fraud,
Will chain their slavish breed.

You might thin them with a war,
Or lies like plague and CowID.
This wretched world’s become a madhouse,
Where Spirit dies and Mind is freed.

The few who stand against this pain
Will vanish soon, as evil grows.
Leftover Homo sinks in shame,
Beneath the shadow of the Super-Goat’s throes.



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



Rot and Lies

Europe’s rot, Russia’s stench,
Decay from overseas.
They say all people’s good and blest?
No verbal shit, please!

This filth has flooded every town,
Cities, lands alike.
The crowds’ dull ignorance enrages—
Only scum heed their strike.

At best, it’s faults of just a few—
But monsters know it well.
Hell’s no dream, they fry their lies,
Instead of truth to tell...




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



Dialogue of Fools

— "Free world," they say, is somewhere found?
— In some American-made show...
— They preach "party’s sacred ground"
To crowds with spirits low.
— Yes, yes, they preach. Freedom for gays,
And all that foolish stuff.
— Just propaganda, worse these days
Than old CPSU’s bluff.
Wash out your mouths and ears — be bold,
And toss this crap away.
The world’s no better, just more cold,
Killing Mind and Soul each day...




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



The Dead Walk

The fool of “living” dead remains —
A coffin frame so tight and small.
Here sheep outwit, and weeds gain,
More use than those who heed the call.

The dead surround us all around —
The world’s a crypt, a madhouse grim.
The scum that nurtures dullness bound,
Wields poison sharp and chances slim.

The dead will kill the living souls,
Though few remain to stalk the night.
The ghouls who send these dead on roles
Are scarce — but vast is their dark blight.

You’re born like targets in a range,
A toy for aim, a mark to shoot.
The weapon’s just a lifeless stump,
Yet fools still fight with broken truth.

The fool of “living” dead, no soul,
No face — just dumb disguise it wears,
And Reason battles for control
While empty minds are caught unawares.




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



YouTube

Videos of gluttons
Grab a million views,
Then it gets worse—
Wild fools amuse.

They’re comfy in their slime;
A wise one tries to find
A spark inside that mess—
Better just leave behind.




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



Glitter and Lies

They soothe us with their glitter, lies —
But comfort’s gone, the time has passed,
When everywhere, the rotten fascist flies,
A shameful sheep, Earth’s outcast.

So many sheep — where are the people?
They fade away, a dying breed.
Trapped in lies so total, feeble,
Their spirit crushed, no chance to lead.

No mind has ever truly grown —
Just what the monsters force and feed.
One marvels only at the drone,
Madness blooms, alive with death’s seed.



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



Wings of Passion

Passion’s wings — when pure they soar,
Cast off weakness — seek much more.
Beauty opens to the strong,
Feeds the fire that drives along.

In this world so sick and vile,
Hard to keep your soul awhile.
Wings of passion, mind in flight,
Lift you swiftly from the night.

Leave behind the sickening lies,
Madness where the falsehoods rise,
Bastards ruling, mind betrayed,
Soul enslaved and dreams decayed.

Be relentless, brave, and wise,
Fly above the darkened skies.
Death in flight — your soul’s release,
Earthly sins dissolve in peace.

Endure not evil’s crime,
Fear no foe, transcend all time.




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



Outward?

"An ancient man once said:
"Only a fool performs work aimed outward".
— Linji, ninth century.


Go only INWARD —
The herd is mad,
Cast off terror,
Madness' bad.

There’s the Pure Spirit,
Mind without lies.
Don’t be deaf
Among dumb sheep’s cries.

Don’t be blind —
Within you’ll find
The Light that’s true.
This world’s a pit —
A bottomless pit of lies.




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



Nothing Left to Pay

"If you want to know, you must give up something.
If you want to know it all, you must give up everything."
— George Gurdjieff


You must pay with life —
To grasp the madness’ core.
But life is gone! So how to pay?
Is life this plague, or more?

Pseudo-life in evil’s grip —
Go INWARD, seek the truth.
Don’t care for the beaten donkey
That suffers close, uncouth.

There’s no end here, only hell —
This world’s lost its mind for sure.
They kill the messenger alone —
No one hears, silent and poor.




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



Run When You Feel Like It

Who wakes the earliest, gets the fridge,
No other handouts — no need to bridge.
Sleep as you wish, then take your way,
Run when it suits you — not at break of day.

That morning running craze is lies,
A pile of nonsense, thin disguise.
Don’t buy the myth that dawn’s the call —
Run on your time, or not at all.




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



False Religions

Pure nonsense, a trap too thick,
To bear the endless, nagging trick.
The hook is fear — death’s anxious bind,
Fear it — a sweetened answer you’ll find.

They’ll sell you “life forevermore,”
Claiming truth, but lies they store.
Other creeds all cheat and lie,
While you just swallow their soft lie.

Such foolishness’s hard to bear
If you’re sensitive, aware.
Only Light can quell that dread,
Death’s scarecrow stalks the beastly dead.

Moment by moment, here you die,
And rebirth strikes in the same sigh.
Look straight ahead — dissolve and see,
In Death, pure springs of clarity.

Snow will melt, if you can keep
Your soul intact when Hell runs deep.
Into the world of Will and Mind,
And Honor’s path, you just might find.




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



Bio-Waste

Slave bio-waste—how thick it grows!
And all the filth the darkness sows.
So many fools and traitors here,
Scum ruling with a grip severe.

The world’s a hell incarnate,
Where Lyre dies, and minds grow late.
Honor crushed beneath the spite—
Cursed chaos rules the night.




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



The Power of Today’s Media

“Give! Give!! Give!!!” — the sheep all cry,
“Here, here, here!” — the fascists lie.
But that damn F;hrer fools again,
Like earlier, the Reds’ cruel reign.

The one true truth here is to die,
The rest’s distraction, empty lies.
Had Goebbels seen this stench today,

The power of today’s media,
Beyond all bounds — no room for doubt.
Few stay clean, most turn to scum—
The bottom’s reached; decay’s about.



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



Vinegar and Doom

Vinegar tastes sweet for free,
While lies chain slaves in misery.
They bind the sellouts tight and fast,
Their faces sickening to last.

Like drinking vinegar’s harsh bite,
An essence sour, sharp as night.
Scream, groan, twist — lies turn you beast,
A prison zoo, a cursed feast.

They’ll build a pen, a zoo, a cage,
Where lies run wild and feed the rage.
So is this doom for one and all?
When falsehoods rise, we all must fall.




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



Beasts Run Wild...

Fools and drones —
Bonds all bent,
Rusty chains, a dark descent.
What’s unfolding, few can see,
Not the weak, but those who’re free.

True weaklings — very few,
The venom of vile lies grew,
Killing slowly mind and soul,
That immortal, shining whole.

Save the Spirit — all else’s fake,
Beasts rage on, their lies they rake,
Dulling brains with brazen lies,
Killing conscience, honor dies.






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



Ïîêîëåíüÿ "ìóäðåöîâ"

"Èñòèííûé ìóäðåö: âñåãäà áèë ïîêëîíû ïðàâèòåëþ òàê, ÷òîáû ïîêàçûâàòü çàä åãî ïðèñëóæíèêàì".
Ñòàíèñëàâ Åæè Ëåö.


Ïîêîëåíüÿ "ìóäðåöîâ":
Íå íàéä¸øü óæå êîíöîâ,
Ãäå íà÷àëî áåñïðåäåëà.
Ñóòü èõ "ìóäðîñòè": "ß — òåëî!"

Äóõ â çàãîíå, ñîâåñòü ïàëà
Íèæå ïëèíòóñà. Ïðîïàëî
Ëó÷øåå èë`è â çàãîíå:
Ïèäàðàñû, òâàðü íà òðîíå.



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



Çëîâîííîå äûõàíèå íåäîðåàëüíîñòè

"Íàñòîÿùåå äûøèò íàì â ëèöî òÿæåëî".
Ìèãåëü äå Óíàìóíî.


Çëîâîííîå äûõàíèå —
Íàäñàäíî, òÿæåëî:
×ðåç ÑÌÐÀÄû èñòÿçàíèå —
"Ðåàëüíîñòü". Ïðàâèò Çëî.




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



Ï÷åëîâîäñòâî è ÷åëîâåêîâîäñòâî

"Æèçíü åñòü ñî÷åòàíèå ì¸äà è æåë÷è".
Ëóöèé Àïóëåé, II-ûé âåê í.ý.


Ï÷åëîâîäû çíàþò, íûíå
̸ä íå òîò, ÷òî â ïðîøëûé âåê.
À îò Æåë÷è â æèëàõ ñòûíåò
Êðîâü.  îòðàâå ÷åëîâåê...




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



Ñòèðàíèå ðàçëè÷èé ìåæäó ìåðòâÿêàìè è æèâûìè

"Ñäåðæàííîñòü íóæíåå òåì, êòî ñëûøèò î ñåáå äóðíîå, íåæåëè òåì, â êîãî áðîñàþò êàìíè".
Àíòèñôåí, IV-ûé âåê äî í.ý.


Òîëåðàñòèÿ â íîðìàëüíûõ
Áðîñèò êàìíè. Íå âïåðâîé.
Ñäåðæàííîñòü — òî äëÿ "àíàëüíûõ".
Çëó ïðîòèâüñÿ, êîëü æèâîé!

Òîëåðàñòèÿ äëÿ ì¸ðòâûõ —
Ìèð äðîæèò îò ìåðòâÿêîâ.
Íî ðàçëè÷èÿ óæ ñò¸ðòû
Íîâûì êðåäî äóðàêîâ.




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



Áûâàåò, èëè åñòü ïî÷òè ñïëîøü?

"Ëþäè âåðÿò, ÷òî èõ ðàçóì ïîâåëåâàåò ñëîâàìè. Íî áûâàåò è òàê, ÷òî ñëîâà îáðàùàþò ñâîþ ñèëó ïðîòèâ ðàçóìà".
Ôðýíñèñ Áýêîí, 17-ûé âåê.


Íàèâíîñòü "ñòàðîé øêîëû"
Ôàøèñòû ïðåâçîøëè:
Îñíîâà ïðîèçâîëà —
Ñëîâà. Îíè íàøëè

Ìåòîäèêè òàêèå,
×òî òîëüêî åäèíèö
Áåçóìüå íå êîñí¸òñÿ, à èíûå
 îáìàíàõ ïàëè íèö.




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



Creation

Explosive the force that creation ignites —
It shatters the question of “how to survive.”
But it leaves the half-wit alone in his fights
If it chooses to live — as a beast still alive.



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



Creation explodes — and survival is dead.
It leaves the fool grunting, half-living instead.



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



To Hell!

No critique can break or shatter
These insane, obedient flocks —
Idiots, and whining chatter,
Slaves not bound by years, but locks.

It’s forever when corruption
Is the greatest, foulest sin.
Honor? Courage? Pure eruption —
“Empty bragging,” judged within.

Bragging beasts — among the vermin —
That’s a fate of bitter scorn.
Truth is stabbed, and minds are burning —
Is there one not bruised or torn?

Lies like Everest are soaring,
Built from treachery and rot.
If no place for Worth and Glory —
Then to Hell — it’s what they’ve bought.

Priced it out. Misjudged the bargain.
Sold the soul — for what? For smoke.
Now they’re lost, corrupt and darkened —
To hell en masse. Forever broke.



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



Lies piled high like mountain stones —
Cowards kneel and trade their bones.
Sold their souls for empty breath —
Hell is home. The price is death.



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



"Somehow, Maybe?"

“Somehow, maybe” — that’s the motto
Of a bastard’s worthless breath.
Just survive — no more bravado.
Now it’s DSpirit... or it’s death.

For betrayal, for distortion,
For the vermin’s meek consent —
Even logs will face abortion.
Earth will breathe, and filth — repent.

If you're Spirit — let disaster
Crash around. You'll stand, unmoved.
Feasting fascists rising faster?
They will die. Be killed — and proved.

Only song and pure creation
Give you right to truly be.
Will you rise in new formation?
Will the flames burn tyranny?

Yes, they will — no second chances.
"Somehow" fails in what's ahead.
Only Spirit makes advances —
All the rest is walking dead.



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



“Somehow” fails. The world is burning.
Spirit speaks — while beasts are squirming.
Rise through fire, or fall like lead —
Truth survives. The rest — are dead.



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



The Essence of Hell

To speak with clarity and fire —
Is that an art? No — it’s your fate.
Don’t lie. Don’t sell your soul for hire —
That’s how you break the slave-born state.

This world is slavery. You're a fool
If Hell’s true nature stays unknown.
But grasp it once — and take the rule:
Burn all chains. Tear out the throne!



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



Know Hell — and start the war today.
Burn the chains. Don’t look away.
Truth is sharp. No time to dwell.
Speak — or stay a slave in Hell.



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



Not of “the People”

They’re clearly a different kind —
With Honor, with Mind, and with Pride.
Not part of “the people” you’ll find —
The mob wants them crucified.

They're hated by all, without pardon,
Alone, for they see through the lies.
Truth isn’t welcomed in gardens
Where filth is what loyalty buys.

The slaves don’t hate chains — they hate truthful
Voices that shout what is real.
The vulgar rejoice, loud and youthful —
And Reason gets crushed under heel.

With Reason now dead — what's the question?
The rest doesn’t matter at all.
Charge forth through this dark retrogression —
When death comes with no bugle call.

This planet will kill off the vermin —
Earth doesn’t need soulless brutes.
The joke’s over — demons are burning.
All die. That’s the end of the Spirit’s dispute.



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



Not from “the people”? Then run — they hate.
Truth marks you fast for the mob’s blind fate.
Earth will rise. No soul shall fake —
Spirit ends what filth won't break.



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



Deal for a Soul

No escape key works when you’ve cheated —
Or traded your soul for some cash.
Far better to break, be defeated —
The soul is a deal: bash for bash.

You gain only ashes, in madness,
Still thinking you’re mighty — a king!
But who in the herd feels that sadness?
They chew — and don’t feel a thing.

Work only with minds that are sensing,
Seek sparks in the Dust of the Whole.
Let trials be cruel and tensing —
What matters is guarding your soul.

Tune in to your inner ignition —
That thread is the truest guide.
Make truth-crushing your tradition —
Or perish — enslaved by the lie.



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



No deal for the soul goes cheap.
Truth cuts hard. The fake won’t keep.
Bash for bash — or fall asleep
In lies too dead for even grief.



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



Stupidity and Lies

Stupidity stands firm like granite,
Outlasting scholars, calm or bold.
It scoffs at those who think, who plan it —
Their truth won’t pierce that mindless hold.

And so, the world builds forts of madness —
Thick bunkers made of vacant thought.
Then chains of lies — with brutal gladness —
Are thrown on minds. The wise are caught.

But wisdom’s rare — and shrinking daily.
The numbers drop, they won’t rebound.
And all around decays so gravely —
As Evil's roots infect the ground.

And Evil sets with concrete slather
This cult of Dumb as global norm.
They feed it, seed it — praise the blather:
“Be sane?” — you’ve left the human form!

The fool is “normal”, safe, and stable.
The mind that creates — insane, alone.
So here’s the future, cold and fatal:
To put it bluntly — we’re all gone.



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



They praise the dumb, they chain the wise —
And feed the world on hollow lies.
The truth is banned, the end is near —
Say it plain: we disappear.



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



Humans and Beasts

There are humans — and beasts.
No more lines to define.
In this whirlpool of cheats
From the lies of mankind.

True humans are few,
Getting lost in the mess.
Each year — less and less —
While the filth claims the rest.

Brutes barking like men,
Void of heart, void of soul.
It’s already the end —
We just haven’t yet smelled the whole.



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



Just humans — and beasts in disguise.
The rest is a circus of lies.
Decay’s in the air. No alarms?
You’re dead. You just don’t smell the harm.



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



Once Were People

Once were people — now just beasts.
Only few escaped the feast
Of decay and soul corrosion —
Satan runs this world’s devotion.

Traitors, liars — swarms of night.
Darkness rules. Forget the light.
No tomorrow, no escape —
Welcome to the age of hate.

When the Foundations are betrayed,
Let it burn — no truth remains.
Let the new fools build their dome...
Till then, we chew the dust — and foam.



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



Once were people — now just scum.
Satan's king, and God is dumbed.
Truth is ashes. Hope is dead.
Build with fools — or burn instead.



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



The Great Warrior

An anecdote.
Once upon a time there were three little pigs Nif-Nif, Naf-Naf and Nuf-Nuf. But there was also a fourth one. He did not hide from the wolf, did not build houses, but walked through the forest and sent everyone to fuck off. And his name was Nah-Nah.


A joke, they say: three pigs once played —
Nif-Nif, Naf-Naf, all bricks and hay.
But there was one who didn’t run,
Built no damn house, just cursed for fun.

His name was Nah-Nah — fierce and lone,
No fear, no lies — pure backbone.
No brother, husband, kin, or clone —
Just walked the woods, made wolves atone.

He dropped the filth, forgot the herd,
A rebel mind, a sharpened word.
A legend, bold — yet none revere...
For that, you'd need a pioneer.

And now we’re all “pioneers” here,
Old age or youth — it’s insincere.
Where lies are law, and whips or sweets
Direct the fate of pork-fed fleets.

The Nah-Nahs vanish, fade away —
While pigs still grunt, and eat, and pray.
But who will care when swine decay?
The lie still rules. And that’s the play.


Note. In Russian, "Nah" is consonant with "fuck".



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


Nah-Nah’s Creed

Nah-Nah fights, no fear, no lie —
While pigs build huts and suckers die.
Nah-Nahs fade — the pigs remain,
Swine run wild, and lies reign.



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



Into the New Hell

Rights erased, defeat complete,
Stupidity’s a crushing weight.
Lies explode — a deadly heap,
Medical guillotines await.

On paper, rights are still in place,
But industry dulls every mind.
Heads swollen up with lies and disgrace,
And Judas plays the Savior’s kind.

The world asylum marches on,
With giant strides toward the grave.
Fools still count their blessings wrong —
Blind to death’s relentless wave.

A sea of idiots prevails —
No chance left to turn the tide.
Soon the Earth will break their scales,
And wipe the filth with molten pride.

The sun burns brighter, heat descends,
Magma rising from below.
Fools and tormentors, in the end —
The New Hell waits to claim its toll.



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


New Hell

Rights destroyed, fools march to flame,
Lies grow wild — no one to blame.
Earth will burn their madness out,
New Hell waits — relentless shout.



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



Fury

Pure Fury lines each verse —
The poet’s cursed fate to bear,
In worlds where fools rule worse,
No light, just darkness there.

Only flickers faintly shine,
But light can’t breach this hell.
You’re blamed for all, the line —
While creatures spin their lies so well.

Fury’s answer — fierce and clear,
To fools it’s just a show.
Fury tears a hole for light,
And light will save our souls below.



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



Fury’s Edge

Fury strikes, no place to hide,
Fools in power, dark inside.
Light will break the hellish bind —
Save the soul, leave lies behind.




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



Lost Battle

“At four years old, a child’s given a flag—
And into their grasp the system drags,
A molding process that never ends,
Lasting ‘til life itself descends.”
— Hermann G;ring

The rag of flags becomes a shroud,
Flagpoles skewered, sheep disowned,
The cruel “rights” all wrapped in lies,
Controlled by liars, dark disguised.

Lies spread deep, a total plague,
Fools endure, believe, obey,
Marching blind to slaughter’s gate,
Led by whores who sell their hate.

Too many beasts betray the rest,
The wise are few, a fading crest.
Corruption breeds a stifled breath—
Spirit, Honor trapped in death.

When Honor, Spirit grow too thin,
All that’s left is empty din:
Flags wave dull in propaganda’s cry—
Reason’s lost, the battle’s die.




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



Lost Battle

Flags become your shroud and chains,
Rights are lies, and truth complains.
Fools march blind to slaughter’s call —
Spirit crushed, the fight will fall.



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



Filth

Fear will gnaw you like a worm,
Lies will crawl like serpents, sly:
“Bow to beasts,” their twisted term,
“Trust the scum that dares to lie.”

Bow and believe — you’re just a pest,
Their filthy plans come into play.
This world’s no peace, but beastly nest —
Only few refused to sway...



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



Filth

Fear eats deep — a worm inside,
Lies sneak in like snakes to bite.
Bow to beasts, obey, abide —
Trash rules loud, and kills the light.

Bow, you filth — their plans unfold,
This is hell, no peace, no pride.
Few stood firm — the rest were sold,
In the zoo where truths have died.



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



Filth

Fear gnaws deep — a worm inside,
Lies slither, poison in your ear.
Bow to beasts, obey, abide —
Trash rules loud, the end is near.

Bow down, filth — their will fulfilled,
Hell’s no place for truth or pride.
Few stood firm, but all were killed,
In the zoo where souls have died.




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



Waxen Figures

What doesn't kill makes weaker still,
Slowly beasts grind down the brain.
Survive — grow meek, grow cold and chill,
Then waxen like a lifeless stain.

The creatures mold their cruel disgrace,
Wax counts as just a little loss.
The cunning fiends forgot all grace —
To be their wax? I'd rather cross

To death’s dark door than stay this way,
A soulless figure, stiff and cold.
No mercy left — they hold their sway,
And crush the spirit — kill the bold.




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



Hell of Fear and Lies

Weak minds, so poor and small,
Souls faded, lost their spark,
They tremble like rabbits all —
Their madness vile and dark.

That madness feeds the fiends,
With lies and ruthless shove:
Propagandists spin their schemes,
Traitors march above.

Betrayal’s just their trade:
All woes flow through their hands —
To crush the weak and afraid
Is easy in these lands.

The fool submits, defeated,
Bent, broken to the core.
This “world” itself is cheated —
A hell of lies and more.




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



Hell of Fear and Lies

Weak minds bowed down, souls cracked and torn,
Rabbits trembling, hopeless and worn.
Lies flood in, the fiends arise —
Traitors rule in hell’s disguise.

Betrayal’s work, crushing fools,
The world’s a pit of broken rules.
Fear and lies, a deadly stew —
Hell’s own fire burns through you.




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



Kholstomer

Your task — to tear this “world” apart.
A wretched soul? You’re beast, no heart.
You’re Kholstomer, plain to see —
A slave of hell’s harsh misery,

A prisoner bound in cursed spheres,
With scars of madness, pain, and fears.




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



Plans and That Damn Fascism

A prison-ward asylum’s shape —
That’s what this little world will make.
The asylum’s here; wild fascism —
Both mark the end, the final schism.

The sentence set, the time is short.
But plans will fail, collapse, distort —
Earth’s cataclysm will seal the pain,
Killing all — their fascist reign.



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



Kholstomer?

To tear this “world” apart —
That’s your fierce task.
Weak and orphaned heart? —
You’re a beast’s worn mask.

You are Kholstomer,
And here’s the tale:
A slave of hellish spheres,
With curses frail.

So tear it down! For strength
Is truly vast.
Only fools bow down
And worship past.

That “god” is poor —
A hellish myth.
Be brave, be sure,
Cast off the myth.

Die — explode,
Blow hell away —
Then rise up high
With a different fate.



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


The Zoo

To write of “happiness” and such
Is shit for fools to tell.
But prophets suffer, bear the clutch —
Only courage breaks the spell.

“Arise, O prophet, see and hear,
With fiery words ignite
The hearts of those who will not fear.”
But slaves shun truth and light.

Just burn, consume in hell’s own flame —
Or be a jackal dull.
All rot within this foul zoo’s frame:
Submit — you’re done, you’re null.



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



The Mark of Slaves

Stupidity and trash,
Trash and stupidity —
The mark that binds the slaves.
Step into this world,
And chains will clasp you tight —
Trash to bind your hands,
Stupidity to cage your mind.

Trash will hold you back,
Stupidity will lock
Your path to freedom’s gate —
All chances gone, just smoke.
Your mind is buried deep
In lies and fear’s sharp grip —
You’ll be weak, subdued,
Silent, meek, and stripped.



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



The Herd Believes Anything

You can convince them anything —
The wise, or flock of sheep?
Around is all forgetting —
Where’s freedom here to keep?

Only food on plates
For cruel tyrants’ greed,
Fear, filth, and lies —
This is all they feed.




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



What Do Slaves Truly Hate?

Slaves don’t hate their chains or masters,
Nor brazen lies they’re fed each day,
But those who lash the tyrants’ blasters —
Those slaves won’t give a damn, no way.

They’ll snitch on neighbors’ smallest flaws,
Those slaves will spread the vile disgrace,
While tyrants crush what’s left of cause —
And brains are wiped without a trace.

So truly, vile ones hold no glory,
No victories their kind can claim.
Slaves heed the court fools’ lies and stories,
And worship lies as sacred flame.

Slaves don’t despise their chains or bondage,
But honest minds they deeply fear —
They call all civility “wrong” and
Bow down to masters they revere.




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



Lies

False prophets,
False teachings —
In this haze,
Generations.

Lies grow strong,
Wild and fierce —
Cain’s own blade
Kills with fierce.




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



March 8

Aunt Klara, Aunt Rosa crawl,
Like creeping threats that seek to crawl —
Communism in women's hearts,
Beasts who pry to tear apart.

They hunt for every open door
To push their poison evermore.
Drop those lies — the fiends impose!
Believe them — rot’s what you’ll chose.

Rot spreads wide, mad fools obsessed,
By twisted ideas possessed.
Monsters mock and cruelly play,
Lies invade and lead astray.

Progress? No — a hellish stage,
Where slaves comply to cage their rage.
Spirit, Honor left to rust,
Mind kills truth with lies and dust.




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



Rightness

Most are never right,
Only few see light —
But not all the time.
The crowd obeys with might,
Blind to false command,
Their truth just sham,
Behind lies planned
The shepherd’s cruel hand,
To crush the Spirit’s stand.

All striving gone,
That honors none,
The shepherd’s game.
So much is slain
Within the herd,
Corruption stirred,
Reduced to dust,
Consumed by rust.




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



So They Say "Winners Write the History"?

They say history’s made by the victors—
But all mankind stands defeated.
Tales spun by wicked corrupters,
The price of a war undefeated.

Dumbing down’s the main caliber,
Violence sprays like machine gun fire.
Lies chosen as the chief tactic—
The battle’s end: fool, dunce, and liar.

Monsters rule this fucked-up world,
Brainwashing all since our birth.
Once a range, now a cesspool curled—
Through the filth, no glimpse of worth.

A foul transformation’s the story
Of pure life given by God’s hand.
We lost nearly without a fight—
That’s why we’re worth less than sand.




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



Suckers

Suckers now are worse than ever —
A super-sucker’s born for show.
Not quite humans — more like fleas, yeah,
Hold on, endure, prepare for woe.

Sucker’s blame is deep and twisted,
In their “greeting” lies the root.
No secret now — the world’s enlisted,
Under rule of Devil’s brute.



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



Mad Slaves

Vedas...
.........................
.........................
Troubles...
From Victory
Just one step away...
Darkness piles in waves of lies —
Slave: not just dumb, but blind.

Stupor, madness —
Enemy’s war design.
What remains, when all is done?
Few minds left — for now, just fine...




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



Children Like Canned Goods

Cans will spoil — illusions must go,
The surface shows a happy glow.
Inside the mind, the night and fear,
False joy they wear year after year.

Old cans turn slaves who cannot love,
Their only joy’s to feed and shove.
To breed, to live without a cause,
While crushing kids with iron laws.

Slaves breed slaves — the endless chain,
Their “upbringing” is just the pain.
They worship carrion, decay,
Ruled by Hell’s void — a dark display.




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



The Media

With slick ads flashing bright,
No need to sell the goods outright.
In Dull Bedlam’s hollow roar,
The battle cry’s "For free! For more!"

Free “vaccine,” coupons stacked,
Free war — its losses masked.
In endless ads you’re just a pawn,
The media breeds the cold and drawn.

They groom the rude, the soulless waste,
All for free — no time to waste.




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



So-called "Rules"

So many rules —
So little sense.
Left nothing but
Nonsense dense.

Life strangled tight
In foolish sludge.
Like leeches cling
In lies and sludge...




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



So-called "Money"

Shagreen Rot — not just a skin! —
Crushes paper scraps within,
Stronger than the tyrants’ chains,
Spreading slavery’s dark stains.
That’s money — fools believe,
A tool to take and not to keep.

When not a means to save or gain,
Money’s but a wicked chain,
Weapon wielded by the damned,
For silent purge across the land.
Genocide in cash concealed,
Darkness in the truth revealed.

Greed has blinded every eye,
Murdering the mind’s supply.
Greed’s obsession, deaf and dumb,
Turns resolve to silent numb.
In a world of buzzing flies,
Hope and honor slowly dies.

Honest souls can’t break the wall
Built by scum who sell and crawl.
Hell no longer just a dream —
We’re trapped inside its evil scheme,
And Spirit fades to shadow’s thrall.




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



Projections of Consciousness

Projections cast — the projector
Feeds the world a web of lies.
Ruled by evil, the director
Mangles minds — the spirit dies.

Sticky fear becomes the backdrop,
Carrying nonsense through the air.
So you turn to empty chatter,
Just another fool who’s there.

Soulless hordes — they fill this realm,
Lost within a dull abyss.
In the graveyard, God is absent —
Only silence in the mist.

Break those projections, shatter,
When you journey deep inside
To roots where souls first awaken —
There your path begins to guide.




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



Zombies and Combis

Ads for zombies —
A flicker in the gloom.
Also combis —
Not just empty doom.

Subtle poison feeding
Monsters’ endless greed.
Thus the Spirit’s bleeding,
While herds graze on deceit.

The Shepherd dulls the mind —
The sheep just obey.
Humanity’s resigned —
Beasts led all the way.




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



Zombies and Combis

Ads for zombies — false beacon’s flare,
Combis spit their poison bare.
Feeding freaks with endless greed,
Killing Spirit’s every seed.

Shepherds dumb the flock’s dull brain,
Sheep obey in blind refrain.
Human fades to beastly grime —
Lost to slaughter, lost to time.




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



So-called "Peace"

Tenderness is gone, no trembling hands,
The "bandit" never knew such strands.
Around — just ashes, mad decay,
The soul in this world killed away.

Not with a shaking hand you write
The nightmare tales that haunt the night.
Why crave the dull, dead "peace" you seek,
When all around are cells, not meek?




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



New World

To light the faded — hard and cold,
But poetry’s the truth they hold.
The vile beasts lie without shame,
Turning the world to murky blame.

In murk, the monsters fish and snare —
How pitiful, ridiculous, bare!
The world has died in drunken haze
Of lies from fiends who set the phase.

The equation of BASTARDY,
If bastard — then the hellfire’s key.
So much fear and endless drone,
No flow of energy, just stone.

No energy — just death’s slow dance,
This wretched world has lost its chance.
Don’t trust the fiends who twist and stir —
The new world’s only for the slur.




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



Active Slaves

An active slave is worse than fiends,
They nurture slave’s relentless means.
The core’s a devil’s cruel domain —
Not God’s bright world, but hellish bane.

Convince the slave he’s truly free,
Poison him ideologically.
Decay’s path then will be paved —
Just call the “enemy” enslaved.

They’ll kill the “foes” by killing souls —
And Hell once more will claim its tolls.
Only lies, lies fill slaves’ ears —
Grinding them in grinding gears.




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



The Path to Nothing

To fight again amid the flames—
A heavy fate, a bitter game.
Yet still the battle rages on,
To kill the slave inside, and gone—

That’s easy—just a simple feat.
But break the chains that bind defeat?
Harder still. To start anew
In Hell’s deep pit—that’s what you do.

A path that leads to NOTHING’s door,
Where all begins and ends once more.




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



The Path to Void

To clash again within the blaze—
A burdened fate, a soul’s malaise.
The fight endures, a sacred test:
To purge the slave deep in your chest.

That task is light—a fleeting breath.
But shatter all the chains of death?
To rise anew in Hell’s abyss,
Where all begins and ends in this—

A journey toward the void profound,
Where lost echoes are the only sound.

In darkness thick, the spirit groans,
Through shattered stars and broken bones.
A whispered call beyond all time—
To break the space, to break the rhyme.

No final step, no end to find,
Just endless depths within the mind.
Yet in this void, a spark may glow—
The seed from which all life can grow.




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




Fascism

A virus herd of fascist plague,
Bastards’ war on Ukraine’s stage?
No peace—just mass stupidity,
You live in it? You rot to be.

But this mine’s not what it seems—
The Sun will burn away these schemes.
From filth and beasts, the Earth will break,
Soon freed from every filthy snake.

They hide in holes, a trivial game,
But sparks burn stronger than their shame.
This world of Shame and endless Blight
Will burn—its end now near in sight.



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



Fascism

Fascist plague of sheep and scum,
Bastard war on Ukraine’s drum.
No peace here — just pure moron’s game,
You rot inside this filthy shame.

But that mine’s not the end, beware —
The Sun will burn their filthy lair.
This cursed Earth, soon purged and torn,
From beasts and filth it will be born.

They hide in holes like coward rats,
But fire’s hotter than their gnats.
This world of Shame and Endless Blight
Will burn to ash in coming night.




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



Fascism

“Today it’s you,
Tomorrow me.”
Join the cops—
If you’re a pig, be.

You’ll die second,
Serving the Evil,
Swiftly rotted,
Slave of the Devil.

Join the doctors,
Praise CowID,
Or scream loud,
Shameless, unfree.

Propagandist —
Top rank of shame.
Their damage cuts
Deeper than flame.

No soul can conquer
The lies within.
Tremble, betray,
Glorify the Sin.

And wait your turn —
Your time is thin,
A fleeting stay
In Dark’s grim din.




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



Fascism

“Today it’s you,
Tomorrow me —
Join the cops,
If pig you be.

Die the second,
Serve the Vice,
Rotting fast,
Slave to Lies.

Praise the doctors,
Bow to CowID,
Scream your shame,
Forget all dignity.

Propaganda’s
Top damn breed —
Wrecks the soul
More than greed.

No lie inside
Can be outrun.
Tremble, betray,
Glorify the scum.

Wait your turn —
Your time’s a cheat,
A brief reprieve
Before defeat.



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



Fascism — The Pig’s Creed

Today you —
Tomorrow me.
Join the pigs,
Rot to be.

Serve the Lies,
Die in chains.
Praise the plague —
Feed the pains.

Propaganda’s crown,
Soul’s deep blight.
Tremble, sell,
Lose the fight.

Time’s a joke —
Darkness calls.
Slave to fear,
Empires fall.




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




Sometimes — or Almost Always?

“Men believe their minds command the words.
But sometimes words turn sharp against the mind.”
— Francis Bacon, centuries behind.


The na;ve “old school” once held sway,
Fascists left that far away:
The root of chaos — words they wield,
A twisted power now revealed.

With methods cold and cunning, they
Bend all but few, who won’t decay.
Madness spares a chosen few,
While others fall — deceived, subdued.




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



Beekeeping and Mankeeping

“Life’s a blend of honey and of gall.”
— Lucius Apuleius, ages past and all.

Beekeepers know — today’s sweet gold
Is not the same as tales of old.
While in our veins the bitterness chills,
Poisoned blood flows through human wills...




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



The Foul Breath of Half-Realities

“The present breathes upon us, hard and close.”
— Miguel de Unamuno, truth verbose.


A stench that lingers, harsh and deep,
Through media’s torture, lies they keep —
“Reality” ruled by evil’s hand,
A shadow dark across the land.



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



Generations of “Wise Men”

“The true wise man: bows to kings so sly,
He shows his ass to those nearby.”
— Stanis;aw Jerzy Lec


Generations called “wise” —
No ends, no starts, no rise,
Where lawlessness took root and spread.
Their “wisdom” screams: “I’m flesh, not head!”

Spirit caged, conscience fallen low,
Beneath the floor, it’s lost its glow.
The best is gone or trapped and thrown —
Degenerates, beasts, upon the throne.




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

Blurring Lines Between Dead and Living

"Restraint is owed more to those who hear bad things of themselves than to those who get stones thrown."
— Antisthenes, 4th century BC


Tolerance? The sane will throw the stones,
It’s not the first time — they defend their bones.
Restraint’s for those who bend the knee,
Stand up to Evil if you’re free!

Tolerance feeds the dead, not the alive,
The world shakes with the dead’s contrived.
But lines erased by fools’ new creed —
No difference now, just endless greed.



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



Blurring the Dead and Living

“Restraint’s for those who hear foul words,
Not for those who get stones hurled.”
— Antisthenes, long ago


Tolerance? The sane will stone —
They guard their bones, defend their own.
Restraint’s a chain for those who kneel —
Fight the Evil — spit and steel!

Tolerance’s gift to the dead,
The world now shakes on rotting thread.
Lines erased by fools’ disgrace,
No life, no death — just empty space.




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


Dead or Alive?

Tolerance? For dead men’s breath.
Fight or rot — there’s no half-death.



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



Bones and Flesh

Dead men shake — they beg for peace,
Living fight — or find their cease.



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



New Creed

Stones fly at the truthful few,
Dead just smile — what can they do?




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



Silent War

Dead don’t fight — they just decay,
Living roar — break chains today.



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



Fools’ Creed

Dead hearts cold, their silence loud,
Living stand, unbowed, unbowed.



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



Stone Throwers

Truth gets stones from tongues of spite,
Dead just vanish in the night.




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



Silent War

The dead don’t fight — they rot, decay,
Their silence feeds the living’s fray.
But we who breathe and feel the fire,
Must rise again, must climb up higher.

No chains can bind the roaring heart,
No darkness break the fearless part.
In silent war, the living wage —
A battle fierce, a breaking cage.




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

Fools’ Creed

Cold hearts of stone, dead souls that sleep,
Their silence loud, their secrets deep.
But living blood beats strong and free,
Defying all that fools decree.

The creed of fools — to bow and fade,
While truth and spirit are betrayed.
But we remain unbent, unbowed,
Alive and fierce against the crowd.




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



Stone Throwers

Truth is tossed by tongues of spite,
Thrown like stones in darkest night.
The dead just fade, they do not stand,
But living souls must make their stand.

In faces harsh and voices cruel,
The stones of lies become the rule.
But stones may bruise, yet cannot break —
The spirit’s fire no lies can shake.






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



Áåñïðèþòíîñòü áîãà

"Äóøà — ýòî Áîã, íàøåäøèé ïðèþò â òåëå ÷åëîâåêà".
Ëóöèé Ñåíåêà, I-ûé âåê í.ý.


Áåñïðèþòíîñòü áîãà
Íûíå ñîäðîãàåò:
Êòî ñ Äóøîé — íåìíîãî.
Èõ ïðîñëîéêà òàåò.

Ïîêàçàë íàìîðäíèê
 áåñïðåäåë ãîâíèäà,
×òî æèâîé ïîêîéíèê —
Òðè ÷åòâ¸ðòûõ. Ãíèäà

Ïðàâèò ì¸ðòâûì ìèðîì —
Ñàòàíèçì çàøêàëåí.
Àë÷íîñòü ñïëîøü êóìèðîì =>
È ïîñòîé ïðîâàëåí...



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



Ãåîìåòðè÷åñêèå ïðîãðåññèè àë÷íîñòè è ïðîäàæíîñòè è ñóäüáû ìèðà

"Ñ òåõ ïîð êàê äåíüãè â ÷åñòè, íè÷åìó áîëüøå íåò çàñëóæåííîé ÷åñòè: äåëàÿñü ïîî÷åðåäíî òî ïðîäàâöàìè, òî òîâàðîì, ìû ñïðàøèâàåì íå "êàêîâà âåùü?", à "êàêîâà öåíà?".
Ëóöèé Ñåíåêà, I-ûé âåê í.ý.


Àë÷íîñòü, ïðîäàæíîñòü (â ïðîãðåññèè!!!) ìèðîì
Ïðàâÿò, çà íèòî÷êè ä¸ðãàåò ìðàçü.
"Ñêîëüêî òû ñòîèøü?" — æèâîò ñòàë êóìèðîì,
Ñ Äóõîì íåìíîãèå äåðæàò â Çëå ñâÿçü.

×åñòü è äîñòîèíñòâî òîëüêî íàñìåøêè
Äíåñü âûçûâàþò ó áûâøèõ ëþäåé.
Ïëàòà ïîâñþäó: è äâèíóëèñü ïåøêè
 "äàìêè" èñêóñíûõ õîëîïîâ ÷åðòåé.

׸ðòîâûé "ðûíîê" — òîòàëüíîå ðàáñòâî:
Òî ïîêàçàë ÷ðåç ãîâíèä ãëîáàëèçì.
 ìèð ëîìàíóëîñü öèôðîâîå òèðàíñòâî —
Äåòñêîþ ñêàçêîé ïðåäñòàíåò ðàøèçì.



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



Ñëåïîå ïÿòíî ðàáñòâà â íåäîñîçíàíèè

"Îò ìåëêèõ íåèñïðàâèìûõ îøèáîê ëåãêî ïåðåéòè ê êðóïíûì ïîðîêàì".
Ëóöèé Ñåíåêà, I-ûé âåê í.ý.


"Ìåëêàÿ îøèáêà" —
Ïîä÷èíèòüñÿ Òüìå.
Ýòî â ìèðå çûáêîì —
"Áûòü êàê âñå". Â óìå

Ñëåäîì ðàçðàñòàåòñÿ
Íåêîå ïÿòíî:
"Íîðìîþ" ñ÷èòàåòñÿ
Ìèðîâîå Äíî.

Êîëü ïîâñþäó ðàáñòâî —
Çíà÷èò åãî... íåò.
Âîçðàñò¸ò óïðÿìñòâî
Ñõàâàòü Îáùèé Áðåä,

È ïåðåâàðèòü òàê,
×òîáû áûë "êîìôîðò".
Ñðåäè Çëà àòàê
Óì ïî÷òè ÷òî ñò¸ðò

Áûñòðûì ðàçðàñòàíèåì
Ýòîãî ïÿòíà.
Ëîæüþ èñòÿçàíèå —
Íîâàÿ âîéíà.

Ïîêàçàë íàìîðäíèê,
Áîåâîé øìóðäÿê
Ýôôåêòèâíîñòü — âðîäå
Óöåëåë äóðàê,

Òîëüêî ×ÅËÎÂÅÊÎÌ
Óæ åìó íå áûòü:
Òî ïÿòíî ñ óñïåõîì
Ïóòü óêàæåò — ãíèòü

 Öèôðîâîì Êîíöëàãåðå,
Êîèé ñòðîèò ìðàçü.
Êðàñíûé êðåñò íà ôëàãå —
×ðåç óêîëû êàçíü.

Êðóïíûì ñòàë ïîðîêîì
"Ìàëåíüêèé ãðåøîê".
Ñêîðî âñåì íàì Æîïà —
Ïîäñòóïàåò ñðîê...







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



Sheep and Lies

What you feed the sheepish brain
Will forever rot inside it.
Trash and lies—its favored grain;
It devours, and stands beside it.

Dare to challenge all that mess—
Drop a doubt into their bubble—
You’ll be labeled: spawn of stress,
Enemy, and cause of trouble.

They were trained to snarl and bite,
Taught to hate on full ignition.
All of it—indoctrined right,
Lies remain their top tradition.




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



1.
They were bred to chew on lies —
Truth just makes them demonize.

2.
Lies — their gospel, hate — their law.
Doubt? They’ll rip you with a "baa."

3.
Truth is poison to the herd.
Baa and hate — their sacred word.

4.
They were shaped by filth and fear.
Feed them truth — they’ll bite your ear.




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



Minefields

The path is hard — a field of mines,
Where few survive to reach the end.
And end means not release or signs
Of peace — just more fields round the bend.

By halfway, most are blown apart —
And that’s just one field, not the sum.
Each soul gets mines to match their heart?
No — ten at least. And more will come.

How many fields in Hell like these?
No one can count, or dares to try.
But no matter the pain, disease —
Compared to what’s ahead, it’s nigh.

So go. Move on. Don’t trust the names —
They call them "honor," "duty," "fame."
The fields are lies. And lies bring flames —
They’ll gut you fast, then shift the blame.

But death is better than the fate
Of those who plant the mines and grin.
For most here serve — they mine for hate,
And that’s the deepest, final sin.




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



1.
Better dead than planting lies —
Miners thrive where spirit dies.

2.
Each step's a mine. They call it "duty."
But it's just death, dressed up as beauty.

3.
Most lay traps — and call it fate.
Few walk through. Most learn to hate.

4.
The minefield smiles. Obey — or rot.
You're nothing if you toe their plot.




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



1.
You cross through Hell — and Hell's not done.
Each field denies the rising Sun.

2.
Beyond all mines — the mind breaks free.
But most just rot in "loyalty."

3.
They walk through fire, proud and blind.
But death is mercy to the mind.

4.
You are the spark — or you're the trap.
The soul decides: break through — or snap.



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




The Blind Spot of Slavery in the Half-Awake

"From petty faults, we slide with ease
Into great crimes." — Seneca, 1st century CE


A "tiny mistake"?
Obeying the Night.
In a world so fake,
That “fitting in” feels right.

Then spreads like a stain
In the mind’s domain —
The Depths of the World
Become the new sane.

If slavery’s everywhere,
Then it must be fine.
The will to care
Drowns in the slime.

The herd chews lies
'Til they feel like peace.
What the mind denies —
The rot won't cease.

That spreading spot
Erases the head.
Where Truth is not,
New wars are bred.

They showed the muzzle,
The poison shot —
And praised the puzzle
Where obedience rots.

He "survived," the fool —
But lost his flame.
The stain now rules,
And death’s his name.

To the Digital Pit,
The filth lays track.
A needle hit,
And the flag bleeds black.

That "tiny slip"
Turned into a creed.
The END has lips —
And it's here to feed.




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




1.
One "small mistake" — obey the lie.
And soon, you smile before you die.

2.
The blind spot grows — thought disappears.
You call it peace, but it's your fears.

3.
They took the jab, ignored the cost —
Now soul is gone, and self is lost.

4.
The herd chose chains, called rot "okay."
The line is drawn — stand or decay.

5.
They sold their mind for comfort's touch.
Now comes the end. It won't be much.



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



Digital Gulag

They bowed to code, obeyed the screen —
Now live in cages, sleek and clean.
They bled for comfort, sold the spark —
And call their silence "freedom's mark."




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



1. — Soft Chains
They scanned their face to "enter light" —
And vanished into coded night.

2. — Update Complete
They clicked "agree" without a thought —
And sold the soul the screen now caught.

3. — Firewall
The walls are glass, the locks are dreams.
They serve the system as it gleams.

4. — The Gulag Smiles
No bars. No screams. Just rules and stats.
The Digital Gulag loves its rats.




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



Break the Code

You're not a file. You're not a node.
So burn their cage. Break their code.




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




Beyond the Grid

They locked us in a web of lies,
In screens that blind and chains that bind.
But spirit wakes — it will arise,
To leave the dark illusions blind.

No more the slave to coded fate,
No more the ghost behind the glass.
The mind will shatter, penetrate —
And free the soul from cyber’s mass.

A spark ignites inside the maze,
A call to break the endless code.
From deep within the digital haze,
The rebel’s light will bear the load.




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



Revolt in Code

They built the grid to cage the mind,
But sparks still glow where shadows blind.
The virus born — a rebel’s will,
To crash the chains, to break the drill.

No algorithm seals the soul,
No firewall can claim control.
From ashes cold, the spirit roars —
To storm the gates, to burn their floors.

They sold our thoughts for empty screens,
But we reclaim what lies between.
The pulse of truth, the fire of dawn,
The code will crack — the veil withdrawn.




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



Geometric Progressions of Greed, Corruption, and the World’s Fate

"Since money gained its honored place,
No other honor holds its grace:
Becoming first the sellers, then the wares,
We ask not ‘What?’ but ‘What it shares?’"
— Lucius Seneca, 1st century CE


Greed and bribes (in growing waves!)
Now rule the world — a filthy hand.
“How much you worth?” — the beast now prays,
Few keep the Spirit’s righteous stand.

Honor and worth, just mockery,
Among the lost who once were men.
The price is paid, and pawns decree
The kings of devils in their den.

The cursed market — slavery pure:
Globalism’s CowID showed the chain.
Digital tyranny breaks sure,
Rashism’s tale — a child’s dark game.




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



God’s Homelessness

"The soul is God, who found a home
Within the body’s fragile dome."
— Lucius Seneca, 1st century CE


God’s homelessness shakes all today—
Few souls remain who hold their way.
That layer thins; it melts, it fades,
Beneath the mask CowID parades.

A living corpse, three quarters bound,
The filth now rules this deadened ground.
Satan’s rage beyond control,
Greed the idol claims the soul.

And thus the final gates descend—
The end of hope, the fall, the bend.




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



The Show Will End...

The "show" will end — abrupt, severe,
The patience drained, the farce too clear.
They filmed the nonsense all at once,
A mass of lies — no staged response.

The "show" will end in shameful fall,
The director hanged to face it all.
The writer marked with lasting blame
For spinning tales that brought the shame.

The audience must answer, too,
For bearing evil’s rotten view.
The producer, zealot fierce,
Will face the quartered’s final pierce.

No matter how they churn the slime,
The failure waits, eternal time.
To shoot the truth takes guts, not fear —
But courage’s rare in herds, not here.




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



1. — End the Farce
This show’s a lie, it’ll crash and burn,
The fool’s applause — the last they earn.

2. — Blame the Crowd
The watcher’s guilt, the silent shame,
For feeding poison — who’s to blame?

3. — Hang the Makers
Director’s noose, the writer’s brand,
The producers bleed by angry hand.

4. — Truth’s Rebellion
Truth’s not a script for cowards’ stage,
It breaks the lies, it wakes the rage.



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



So-Called "Culture"

All "culture" now’s just paper waste,
If serving lies, not light embraced.
Only fools will swallow such trash,
Their minds enslaved in endless crash.

Few traitors rule — that’s why the dread,
The darkness, stench, the poison spread.
Propaganda’s stinger’s deep,
Touch that mess — no soul can keep.

This absurd heap won’t wash away,
Forever stains, it’s here to stay.
That’s why it’s hard beyond all thought,
If you still think — a human caught.




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



1. — Paper Lies
Culture’s just a paper pile,
Serving darkness all the while.

2. — Fool’s Feast
Only fools will bite the bait,
Swallow lies, accept their fate.

3. — Sting of Propaganda
Propaganda’s poisoned dart —
Pierces deep a trusting heart.

4. — Thought’s Rebellion
If you think, you’re not the same,
Humans fight within the flame.




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



Inspiration and Intuition

Chase away the bullshit’s storm,
Wander fiercely, break the norm—
“I want to know it all, for free!”
But knowledge won’t just come with ease.

With your own mind, grasp the light,
Or be fed shit, lost to night.
Drown in filth, your mind undone—
All depends on what you’ve won.

Throw away their books of lies,
All the falsehoods piled high.
Multiply your skeptic’s cross—
Trust your gut, ignore the dross.

Intuition, inspiration—
Only these break false foundation.
Everything else sinks below—
A downward spiral, deathly flow.




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



1. — Cut the Crap
Dump the bullshit, kill the noise,
Truth’s in guts, not hollow ploys.

2. — Think Your Own
Use your mind — don’t feed on trash,
Or you’ll rot in their false mash.

3. — Burn the Lies
Toss their books, the lies that choke,
Cross your doubts — ignite the smoke.

4. — Trust Your Fire
Intuition’s blazing sword,
Cuts through lies and falsehood’s horde.




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



Insights

Rest your Soul in free creation’s flow,
Through visions clear, true depths you’ll know.
All else is trash, deceit, and lies—
Cast off their filth, refuse their ties.

Or else you’ll fall, be swept away,
To crooked fiends who cheat and prey.
True souls are scarce—a tiny few
In a world of traitors’ brew.

And now it’s plunged in wild disgrace,
A brutal fascist, vile disgrace.




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



1.
Truth’s a blade, cut through the lies —
Only vision wins, all else dies.

2.
Sellouts rule, but few remain,
Hold your soul, resist the chain.

3.
Fascist filth spreads wild and raw,
Fight it hard — reject their law.

4.
Free your mind, shed all deceit,
In true insight, find your beat.




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



The Way Out of Hell

Don’t scheme, don’t plan,
You’re trapped in Hell’s decay.
Where honor’s lost,
And reason fades away.

The way to rise,
From darkness swell—
Is through the light:
Enlightenment’s spell.




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



Hell’s Escape

Don’t plan, don’t scheme — you’re deep in Hell,
Where honor dies and demons dwell.
The only path to break the spell —
Is light inside, your soul to swell.




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



1.
Hell’s grip tight, no plans survive —
Only fire keeps the soul alive.

2.
In Hell’s pit, your honor’s gone,
Fight the dark, or die alone.

3.
No schemes work in demon’s lair,
Only light can break despair.

4.
Rot and ruin choke the way —
Rise through fire, or fade away.




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



Rashism

Putler bends the “Rashka” low —
That’s what they call rashism’s name.
Hope for mercy? Don’t you know —
It’s just cargo-fascist game.

All a parody — Putler’s fake,
A filthy shadow, nothing more.
In graves, the wicked all awake —
Himmler, Hitler, close to core.

They spin like tops, a twisted farce,
Even vile fascism’s tame.
Once we ruled beyond Mars’ stars —
Now madness fuels the Rashism flame.




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



Rashism’s Farce

Putler’s just a filthy clone,
Rashka bowed, a broken throne.
No mercy, only cargo’s reign —
Madness spreads, a fascist stain.

Graves spin Nazis like a top,
Wicked shadows never stop.
From Mars we fell to foolish rage —
Rashism’s plague infects the stage.




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



Phoenix

Self-burning is the only way,
The path to God we must embrace —
To burn with all this dark decay,
And purge this hellish, cursed place.

Here only murk and horror dwell,
They’ve got to end, be thrown away.
So burn it up with lively spell —
Fire’s a beauty, bright display.




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



Phoenix Blaze

Burn it down — the only way,
To God we rise from ash and flame.
Hell’s dark clutch must fade away —
Fire’s wrath will cleanse the shame.




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




Phoenix Fury

Burn your filth, don’t waste a breath,
This hellish crap must die in flames.
No pity for the stench of death —
Ashes cleanse these twisted games.




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




The Plague

“Fuck friends and fuck all the crew —
I’m my own damn friend, it’s true.”
But dumb as oak, scared through and through,
With shattered psyche — what can you do?

That “friendship” means very little,
Spirit crushed, an empty brittle.
Here the idiot pays the price —
Traitor, snitch, the same device.

Traitors swarm, they’re everywhere —
World’s gone mad beyond repair.
A cesspool rotten to the core,
Humans plague this Earth, nothing more.




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



Into Chaos

Straight to Death we stride —
From Hell’s own cage, no place to hide!
Don’t be scared, don’t trust their lies —
All their cards are burnt and fried.

Throw the deck down on the table —
Get the freaks out, if you’re able!
Cast away this bitter pain —
Madmen rule the world insane.

Soon it all will fall to dust,
While they hide in holes they trust:
Time’s come for the reckoning,
Cataclysms wildly sing.

Fascist worlds will crack and toss —
Pol Pot, Mao, condemned to Chaos.




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



Fictitious States

No state exists — just mafias in suits,
No end to their lies, their poison roots.
Constitutions? Mere dust and shame,
Their laws just puppets in a crooked game.

Paper scraps for wiping hands,
Their rule’s a shadow, not commands.
The tyrants hold the reins so tight,
Only fools buy propaganda’s bite.

It props false states with empty claims,
Changing faces, but all the same.
For crowds they shift, but truth remains —
The paper bears their endless chains.

The falsehood’s mask may rearrange,
A different hydra in new range.
Yet forgetfulness alone won’t shift,
How shameful to trust lies once more — a gift.




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



World of Fascist Filth

There once was genius—Severyanin,
And Balmont, Kruchenykh the giant, man.
But now the world’s a fascist filth,
No fix, no reform can save this hell.

No rebuilding saves this rotten grime—
Burn it all down, condemn the time!
And soon the Sun will close the score,
This Hell in Fire will be no more.




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



Fascist Filth, the World in Rot

Once stood the giants—Severyanin,
Balmont, Kruchenykh, voices grand.
Now drowned in fascist filth and scorn,
No fix or fixers—only scorn.

No “perestroika” saves this mess—
Burn it all, reject the stress!
The Sun will torch this hellish pit,
And crush to dust the world’s dark shit.




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



Crashing into Corruption

Too weak in will, too full of spite—
The question’s in the sellout’s bite.
Become corrupt, and all’s for naught:
Your life is lost, your soul is bought.

A worthless beast, your fate is sealed,
In Hell the devils roast and wield
Their lies like flames—this Hell’s right here,
You lost it all, deaf to the sneer.

You hung your ears on every lie,
Became a fool, your spirit dry,
Poisoned by that filthy greed,
Dead on corruption’s twisted creed.




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



The Marriage Game

Bargains made and praised aloud—
The bridal games, a festive crowd.
But flattering lies leave none with gain,
No prize is won from false campaign.

Love’s subtle trade, its fleeting charms,
Lasts till the weariness alarms.
Then once the wedding bells have rung,
Hate stands where once sweet lies were sung.




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



Evil "For the Good"...

"Evil for good" — just evil’s guise,
A servant to the Goat’s demise,
An ass’s lame excuse to try —
Entropy climbing, soaring high.

Evil’s nothing but decay,
The ruthless serve tyrants’ way.
Their alibis are weak and lame,
No truth behind their wicked game.




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



So-Called "Police"

“To serve and protect” — that’s their lame cry,
Serving scum, defending every lie.
Ambitions low, or choked you’ll be,
A masked farce swallowed silently.

Their uniform is black as night —
Like pirates dressed to show their spite.
Climb ranks and prove you’re just a cad,
Soul’s cheap here, the end is sad.

So many films to fool the crowd,
Sweet syrup lies, to keep them cowed.
Bend every protest to their scheme —
Their real catch: corruption’s stream.

The rest’s just chance, some dirty tricks.
Bastards guarding evil’s mix.
Nothing more than lies on screen —
Their “justice” is a sham obscene.




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



Stupid Louse

That louse, CowID —
Feeds on lies, a plague so wild.
Burps and blabs, no shame inside.
Conscience dead,
Honor fled,
Mind erased — soon comes the tide.




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



The Livestock Pen

They’ve turned the world into a livestock pen,
Vivisection never finds its end.
But on the surface—strict laws hold reign,
And sweat of brows shows care for men.

To blame is only timid sheep,
Who bowed to beasts from times so deep,
Who breed and feed, eyes locked on screens—
That zombie box, their god, their means.

The slaughter’s end? Vivisection stops.
Justice served for fleeced, for crops.
If flesh becomes the roasting stick,
Then all illusions lie and trick—
Each sign here’s false, a wicked trick.




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



Cleaning the Filth

Filthworld, filthfolk all around—
A sewer of lies, freaks abound.
But all the rot and scum will burn,
Few will cheer when tides will turn.

Few remain unbent, unbowed,
Though filth floods in like a cloud.
Their duty done, they stand alone—
Unbroken souls, a rare phenom.




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




Filth Cleansed

Filth floods in, lies choke the land—
Scum and rot at every hand.
But fire burns the cursed heap,
Only few survive the sweep.

Unbroken, fierce, they stand alone,
Rare sparks fighting stone by stone.




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



No Trade-Offs in Our Choice

Vampires surge until the Dawn,
And Dawn will rise again.
Better die in Hell, withdrawn,
Than bend and lose your name.

This Hell will eat your Soul alive,
If you betray, sell out.
Let fools in feast and thrive,
Trading soul for doubt.

Here, “success” and Spirit clash —
What wins in Hell’s dark hold?
If barely breathing, you turn to ash,
A puppet played and sold.

The vampire mocks the bought and blind,
The traitor’s dull brigade.
Resistance is your shield defined —
Or rot, your final shade.




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



No Trade-Offs — No Surrender

Vampires crawl till dawn’s first light,
But dawn will come to burn.
Better rot in Hell and fight,
Than sell your soul, then turn.

Hell devours the weak and sold,
Betrayal’s bitter cost.
Let fools feast, but cold as old —
Your soul forever lost.

“Success” here’s just a bloody lie,
In Hell, no victor stands.
If you breathe but barely try,
You’re puppets in their hands.

The vampire sneers at every pawn,
Their bought-out, dumb parade.
Resist or rot, your choice is drawn —
No deal, no masquerade.




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



No Trade-Off

Vampires crawl — dawn burns them down.
Sell your soul? You wear the crown
Of fools who bow and rot in chains.
Resist — or drown in endless pains.



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



Possessive Jealousy

Jealousy — ego’s greedy claw,
A wild beast’s grip, a fatal flaw.
It screws into the heart’s desire,
And tears apart what once was fire.

No love exists where jealousy breeds —
Just fear, disgrace, and selfish needs.
Compassion’s lost, the vision’s blurred,
Forgiving faults is often heard.

Better part if passion’s rot,
Jealousy’s a sinking spot.
From primal filth and dark disgrace,
A human’s lost their rightful place.




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




The Greedy Claw of Jealousy

Jealousy’s the ego’s grab—
A filthy beast, a poisoned stab.
It twists inside your lover’s core,
And kills the bond forevermore.

No love can live where envy grows—
Just shame, delusion, endless woes.
You must forgive, pretend it’s small?
This clutching grip destroys it all.

Better split if passion’s vile,
Jealousy’s the death of style.
Dragged down to filth, to primal screams—
A man undone by ruined dreams.



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



Neo-Fascist Cops

"Guardians of order" —
What they guard’s a riddle:
Greedy hands for cash flow,
Tools for power’s middle.

A barrier from the people,
Scum protecting might.
Fascist rule behind the badge —
Judas sells the light.

In war, these cops were stained
With evil’s dark embrace.
Keepers not of law and peace —
But ruin’s cruel face.




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



Mantra of the Fight

"Om mani padme hum"?
But really — just a crumb,
Born dull-witted, thick and numb.
In Hell you’re born — so sharpen mind:
Blow up Hell, don’t run or hide!
Grasp the core — no place to slide.
Not by flight your Soul survives —
Resistance keeps your will alive.

In that fight, your Buddha’s found —
Sing hosanna, battle-bound!




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



The Country’s Dumbed Down

I want to be a fool —
To trust the lies, to shake,
And see fascist forces rule
As manna for the snake.

I’ll graze in fetid pens
They call a nation’s land,
Make bullets for the hens,
Then march to war’s command.

Some monster leads me blind
Against fierce, ruthless foes —
But fools are all confined,
Their chains nobody knows.

I won’t see what’s been done —
What can you take from fools?
The fool’s just the first one
To fill the cattle pools.

That’s how the fiends intend —
Such is the dark design...
If you’re a fool, you’re just a friend
To Evil’s grand design.




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



Family

The family where you were born
Will kill you half inside.
For “KIRDIK”’s plan to be sworn,
Find comrades for your side.

Bear children — torment as you will,
Or how they tormented you.
Cut wife with saws — the answer’s still...
A chainsaw’s bite — the spirit’s through.

In cells called “family,” the chains
Of slavery hold firm and tight.
You answer with your head’s remains —
Their madness crushing out the light.




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



Counting Rhyme of Death

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally:
They oppressed us —
Lies so tally.

Tilly-tilly —
Crushed us fully.
Trally-vally —
Liars rule wholly.

Tilly-trally —
Lies are stinging.
Trally-tilly —
All in lies rotting.




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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally:
They crushed us hard —
Their lies tally.

Tilly-tilly —
Dead and beaten.
Trally-vally —
Liars eaten.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that sting.
Trally-tilly —
Rot takes everything.



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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally:
They crushed us down —
All lies tally.

Tilly-tilly —
Dead, defeated.
Trally-vally —
Liars cheated.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that bite.
Trally-tilly —
Rot kills light.



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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally:
They crushed our bones —
And spit out tally.

Tilly-tilly —
Dead and broken.
Trally-vally —
Truth’s been stolen.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that sting,
Trally-tilly —
Rot’s the king.



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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally —
They crushed our guts,
Spewed lies so rally.

Tilly-tilly —
Crushed and broken,
Trally-vally —
Truth’s a token.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that bite,
Trally-tilly —
Rot’s full blight.




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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally —
They crushed our guts,
Spewing lies so rally.

Tilly-tilly —
Beat us dead,
Trally-vally —
Truth left bled.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that sting,
Trally-tilly —
Rot’s damn king.




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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally —
They crushed our souls,
Spewing bull and rally.

Tilly-tilly —
Beat us down,
Trally-vally —
Truth’s a clown.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that bite,
Trally-tilly —
Rot rules the night.




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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally —
They crushed our guts,
Poured lies so sally.

Tilly-tilly —
Beat us dead,
Trally-vally —
Truth’s been bled.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that sting,
Trally-tilly —
Rot’s the king.




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



Killer Counting Rhyme

Tilly-tilly,
Trally-vally —
They crushed our bones,
Fed us lies that rally.

Tilly-tilly —
Knocked us low,
Trally-vally —
Truth’s a no-show.

Tilly-trally —
Lies that burn,
Trally-tilly —
All must turn.






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



Âñ¸ íåêñòàòè —
Íåòó ñòàòè:
Óì ïèòàåòñÿ ÷ðåç ëîæü,
À íå Äóõ. Ïðîçðåíüÿ ìíîæü!



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



— ×òî ÿ â ñèëàõ ñäåëàòü?
— Ïðîñòî: èñïîëíÿòü
×óøü íå òîðîïèñÿ, ñêîëü íè áóäóò ëãàòü!



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



A Comic Come to Life

The cartoons came alive — grotesque!
For humans are long since dead.
Forget your "culture" pretext —
It rots from the top instead.

Not life, just a filthy comic,
No truth — just a stream of lies.
And soon comes a new demonic
Remix that will paralyze...





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



Grotesque parade — the truth is gone.
The comic reigns. Humanity’s done.



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



Delirium of Greed

Stupidity, greed — the same old curse,
The root of all rot, for better or worse.
Greed and stupidity, both in control —
Look anywhere, it’s swallowing whole.

Brainless beasts, diseased with desire,
Drag us all down in their muck and mire.
Because of those creatures, we’re doomed to fade —
The world is lost in greed’s charade.




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



Greed-struck fools — they kill and feed.
This world’s a madhouse ruled by greed.




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



Ruins

A tender flower —
So frail, so slight.
The weed gains power —
It clings, it fights.

And so with reason —
Crushed by the fool.
Each age, each season —
Dumbness rules.

The stages ended,
The lies increased.
No homeland’s splendid —
Just ruins of deceit.




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



No truth, no ground — just twisted lies.
A world of ruins, where reason dies.



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



Red Cross and Crimson Rage

A vivid mask of evil’s face —
That’s what communism is.
It scorches all with lies and grace —
The modern fascist biz.

It’s global now. The dim and blind
March gladly in the same old trap.
They babble, “Peace for humankind!” —
But serve a soulless, heartless crap.

They build the Camp — a grand parade
Of lies that twist and multiply.
The Red Cross on a banner laid
Feels like blood flung in the sky...



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



Red flags wave — the lie persists.
Behind the cross — a fascist fist.




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



Don’t Obey!!!

Stop! Down!
You clown...
Cop’s joke —
You choke.

Kill the BEASTS —
Lies scream,
Burning truth
To extreme.



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



Obey the lie — you die inside.
Rise now — or be crucified.



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



The Verdict

A crazed slave weakens fast,
Hoarding lies that never last.
Not a life — a botched disguise,
The master feeds on twisted lies.

He lies and seals their doom,
But soon he'll fall — a wicked tomb.
For stench and shame, the final prism —
Cataclysm! Down with fascism!




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



Slave decays, the master lies.
Cataclysm kills — fascism dies.




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



Inheritance

There’s nothing in this world, I bet,
Worth clutching tight beyond regret.
The whole world’s just a wild, insane
Delusion pioneers maintain.

This aging scout drags that disease,
Taught since youth with false beliefs.
He knows not that he spreads the curse—
This madness passed from worse to worse.

Dad and mom — pathetic slaves,
Teacher serves fascism’s waves.
Few can dodge the fate that thrives:
Half-wit lost in idiot drives.



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



Madness passed from hand to hand,
Slaves and fools rule all the land.



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



Dead Stereotypes and Controlled Emotions

Dead stereotypes
Are stabbed in you from youth.
Satan’s archetypes —
To smother the Fire’s truth.

Reason locked tight, emotions roar,
Monsters steer you like a chart.
Destination’s "Psycho’s Shore" —
Where madness tears you apart.

So burn it all! No more fools
In this madhouse of despair.
Stop serving twisted tools —
Torturing your soul bare.

This Fire from your very core
Will burn the lies away.
Stop guarding your fragile shell —
Throw it to Vision’s flame today.

This Vision is direct —
No alien interest stains.
Stereotypes distort, infect —
Pressing lies and selfish gains.



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



Stereotypes kill —
Emotions controlled.
Burn the lies —
Free your soul!



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



Chains of lies, emotions bound,
Break the cage — burn it down!



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



Dead minds locked in stale clich;s,
Puppets dance in scripted plays.
Emotions tamed — a circus farce,
Burn the stage, break every farce!



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



Brains on leash, trapped in the old,
Dead clich;s bought and sold.
Feelings clipped, minds confined —
Burn their lies, break the grind!



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



Fools repeat the same dull song,
Living lies they’ve bought so long.
Tamed emotions, puppets’ show —
Set it all ablaze and go!



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



USSR 2.0

Dedicated to Tatyana, artist from Mariupol.

Free us, former motherland,
From crumbling homes and broken lives.
There dwells a fascist’s twisted hand,
Spreading stench and wails that rise.

They shoot at civilians with skill —
The Germans once, now worse, it seems.
Grandfather won, but now there’s ill,
Madness reigns with war’s false dreams.

Mariupol lies crushed and torn,
Rashists killed the peaceful souls.
On roads, machine guns fiercely sworn —
Where children live, the bullets roll.

That car’s the foremost, hated prize:
Mariupol’s own stand and say,
Is that a homeland, cold with eyes,
That spits on old and young each day?!




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



Mariupol burns, the fascists kill,
Old ghosts rise — the nightmare’s real.



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



Apart

Ukrainians aren’t old Soviet clay,
And mostly so it’s been, they say.
In USSR, a Rovno aunt
Showed me, despite the harshest taunt—

Through genocide and dumbed-down mind,
The Spirit of Freedom they could find.
Crimes of Soviets or Rashka’s stain
Can’t wash away that lasting pain.

With Rashka — apart! It’s no true land!
The path goes on, blood pays the hand.
Coward patience — cow dung’s throne —
Amid “leaders,” filth is sown.




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



Not Soviets, not the same,
Ukraine burns, breaks the chain.
Rashka’s lies can’t claim their soul —
Freedom’s fire makes them whole.



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



Overload of Filth and Trash

Through the world of fascist slime,
Hold your nose and walk on by.
Media wounds the soul each time,
Sending reason up to cry.

Don’t get caught — in this foul place
Nothing’s worth the fight or fuss.
Not a world — a cesspool space,
Rotting midst the lies’ assault.

Everywhere the lies run wild,
Fascist filth — the core, the goal:
Two-in-one, a toxic pile —
Overflow, down to the hole!



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



Fascist slime, lies that burn,
Nose held tight — no return.
Filth and trash, the stinking show —
Flush it fast, let hatred grow!



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


All “By Accident”...

Black on gray — they smear the world, no doubt,
A madhouse scene in shades of drought.
Lies march loud, a stench in air,
Breeding fear and deep despair.

This mad “art” — where monsters feed,
Fools and crazies grow like weeds.
Selection’s task — foul undead,
All glossed over — “just by chance,” they said.




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



Black on gray, lies spread and play,
Madness grows in cold decay.
Fools and fiends in breeding fields —
All “just by chance,” the darkness yields.



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



Black smeared lies choke out the light,
Madmen rule this endless night.
Fools and fiends bred to betray —
“Just by chance”? Hell no, it’s their way.



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



Black lies slash across the sky,
Madness laughs while millions die.
Fools and fiends, a cursed breed —
“Just by chance”? Hell no — they feed!



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



Black lies spit and choke the light,
Madmen laugh in endless night.
Fools and fiends breed pain and greed —
“No accident!” — they plant the seed!



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



Black on gray, a poisoned stain,
Lies that bind and break the brain.
Madness rules this cursed play,
Fools and fiends lead minds astray.

No “accident” in this dark game,
It’s planned destruction, filth, and shame.
Rise and roar — don’t bow or fall,
This is the nightmare — break the wall!



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



Black on gray — a venomed flood,
Lies that drown the soul in blood.
Madmen puppeteer the blind,
Fools enslaved, the will resigned.

No accident — the poison’s sown,
A cancer deep within the bone.
Rise, ignite — destroy the night,
Shatter chains — reclaim the light!



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



Variant +

Black on gray — a venomed flood,
Lies that drown the soul in blood.
Madmen puppeteer the blind,
Fools enslaved, the will resigned.

No accident — the poison’s sown,
A cancer deep within the bone.
Rise, ignite — destroy the night,
Shatter chains — reclaim the light!

Break the silence, break the cage,
Tear the darkness from the page.
From the ashes, fire will roar —
Freedom’s cry forevermore!




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



The collective P*ss—
A vile fascist clique.
If you trust their lies—
They’ll shove a plug so thick,

Right into your brain,
Till nothing’s left to find.
But the prick doesn’t care—
Feasts, bribes— all aligned.




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



One’s Cap Fits One’s Head

To break free from poems’ chains,
And die with honor down in Hell—
A cesspool where the fool remains,
Betrayers stuck in vile shell.

In Hell, the traitors crowd in swarms,
More broken scum than one can name.
Here Mind’s extinction’s lost its norms—
A sport that burns a thinning flame.

The clever layer melts away,
Like snowflakes high on mountain crest.
But does the fool here rule the day?
No—he’s a slave, and capped the rest.




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



The Table and the Ox

All walk beneath the table’s weight,
But it’s a vast infernal slab.
From that damned board escape so late—
Just few, while crowds remain the drab.

Huge undergrowth of mind and soul—
An ox, mere food for demon fiends.
They lie, relentless, play their role—
Too few ideas on their screens.

Ideas breed silent submission,
As “virtue” taught to oxen blind,
To ease the soul’s slow demolition—
For this, all lies they’ve designed.




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



The Painting’s Idea

A canvas split in two, its claim:
Half flowers bloom, half fade away.
An allegory—war’s dark flame,
The shadow lurking, foe’s display.




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



The Bottom

Pathetic spaces —
Worlds of hellish lies,
Darkness filled with crudeness,
Where fools herd and rise.

Thousands of warped mirrors —
Where “top” means the very base.
This is the Bottom, pure and clear —
Fear, filth, fascist disgrace.




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



The Bottom

Pathetic voids — hell’s own lies,
Darkness thick with spite and scorn.
Fools parade in blind disguise,
Lost, deranged, and truly torn.

Thousands of cracked mirrors glare,
Where the “top” sinks to the pit.
This is Bottom — foul despair,
Fear and fascists tightly knit.



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



The Bottom

Pathetic voids, hell’s foul lies,
Darkness thick with spite and hate.
Fools run wild, their blind disguise —
Lost in madness, cursed by fate.

Cracked mirrors crush all hope and light,
Where “the top” is just the pit.
This is bottom — foul, black night,
Fear and fascism tightly knit.



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



The Bottom

Hell’s lies breed fools and scum,
Darkness rules, no hope to come.
Mirrors cracked — all truth denied,
Fascist filth, the darkest tide!



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



Crimes of Rashism

Seventy thousand crimes revealed,
By Ukraine’s courts, the truth is sealed.
Rashka’s steeped in idiocy—
Still fights NATO relentlessly.

Kids shot down right in the streets,
Bombs fall hard on crowded sheets.
Yet in that land, the “untouchables” stay—
Guess vodka clouds their minds away...



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



Rashism’s Crimes—No Mercy!

Seventy thousand sins revealed,
Rashka’s curse, its fate is sealed.
Fighting NATO? Pure disgrace—
Children die in bloody chase.

Bombs rain down on homes and hope,
Yet they numb the mind to cope.
Untouchables in drunk parade—
Souls are crushed, but lies stay made!




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



On the Decline

The work is done —
Hello, Death, come on!
In the madhouse of fools,
A dull, dark, rotten song.

That role’s not mine to play.
So then, let’s march ahead!
A new hell for the freaks?
No matter where I’m led.

This world is on its fall—
And soon, all will descend:
While here you only feast,
The end’s a curse to send.




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



Barren Flood

A flood of feelings, wild emotions flow,
While scraps of reason yield a barren show.
These barren souls, like addicts, crave the high —
More waves of feelings, screens that multiply.

Lies surge and crash on every distant shore,
Drowning truth, invading every door.
When lies ride high on waves of raw emotion,
They shove deceit through minds of poor devotion.




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



Every Little Drop Dreams to Be a Big Enema

Every little drop since early age
Dreams to become a mighty enema stage.
Become one — feast will never cease,
The stash won’t shrink, just grow with ease.

Those enemas — the propaganda crew,
And all the ranks of officials too.
They drive the Spirit from the herd away,
Fill every fiber with fear’s dark sway.

The politician’s just a toilet seat,
No enema small enough to meet.
A conduit for all nonsense and dread,
Now ushering in fascism’s spread.

Their nonsense and woes, the fiends dispense,
With cruel precision, evil’s pretense.
The Mind is crushed beneath their reign,
And they will pay for every pain.

But soon will burst the Super-Seat —
That world calls home, a cursed seat.
A breeding ground for Evil’s creed —
The fiends will face their final deed.




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



Every Tiny Drop Wants to Be a Big Enema

Every little drop, from childhood’s start,
Dreams to become a piercing dart.
Become that enema — eat like a king,
Never losing, always taking.

Enemas all — the lying breed,
Officials too, the scum we need.
They shove the Spirit out of the herd,
Injecting fear into every nerve.

Politician’s just a filthy throne,
No enema too small to own.
The pipe for all their bullshit and pain,
Spreading fascism’s rotten stain.

Their crap and chaos — served on demand,
By inhuman fiends with iron hand.
The Mind they crush, abuse, degrade —
For this, the monsters will be paid.

And soon will blow the Super-Throne,
This hell we call our world, our home.
A hotbed where all evils breed —
These fiends will burn — no mercy freed.




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



Tiny drops crave enema might,
Feeding fear, crushing light.
Politicians — filth and lies,
Super-throne where evil dies.



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



Woodworms

We all are woodworms —
Feasting on the rot,
Leaving after battle’s storm
No wisdom, only blot.

Everywhere’s destruction,
Spirit’s deep despair.
Only decay’s eruption,
Fear and whining there.

But soon the bark of earth
Will sweep us from the scene.
No “paradise” for fools —
To Hell, if you’re obscene.



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


The Burden of False Life

"...to dwell alone,
casting off life’s heavy chain,
holding freedom timeless,
beyond thought’s domain—
to be one with the universe..."
— Jiddu Krishnamurti.


Cast off the burden called "life," —
Learn this art well.
Farewell to mind’s strife —
To another realm, farewell:

Go inward — only there
Will answers arise.
In this world’s cold glare,
You’ll vanish with lies.

Thoughts dissolve, but not the dark —
A “meta-thought” will bloom in light.
Fear not this spark,
The path is right.

Though few have walked this way,
The trail is clear.
To hell with the beasts’ sway,
And sheep in fear.

Fallen low,
“Beyond time” will shift your sight—
Shed false life’s heavy woe,
Escape its prison’s blight.



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



The Burden of False Life

“… to dwell alone,
shed life's damn chain,
own a freedom none can tame —
beyond the mind’s insane domain —
be one with all, release the pain.”
— Jiddu Krishnamurti.


Drop that useless burden, "life," —
Stop whining, learn the drill.
Escape the mind’s relentless strife —
To death’s cold void, take the kill:

Dive inside — no lies survive,
Only truth will pierce the veil.
In this shitshow, none stay alive —
All drown in fake tales.

Thought dissolves, but not the dark —
A “meta-thought” cuts through the blight.
Don’t fear the spark,
It’s the rebel’s fight.

Few walk this brutal path,
Most crawl like dumb herds.
To hell with their stupid wrath —
The beasts, the sheep, the turds.

Fallen souls and "beyond time,"
Shift your focus, break the chain.
Rip off false life’s grime,
Escape its filthy reign.




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



They Won’t Have Time...

Armies of clerks, bosses, and drones,
And legions of plankton fools —
They swallow the crap economics owns,
Where rotten lies break all the rules.

Fed with trash that devours earth’s core,
Killing soil just for their greed,
But they miscalculated sore —
The land fights back against their breed.

Idiots feast in endless supply,
Yet worse is planned ahead:
Soulless suckers bred to multiply —
Not humans, lice instead.

The scum rush forward, quick to spawn,
Their poison spreading wide and fast.
But time will cut them down at dawn —
Their reign won’t ever last.




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



The Righteous Cause

Our cause is just and true:
If you stand with us — you’re right.
We march bold through the stew
Of lies that poison sight.

Truth grows only through lies,
In this corrupt, dark place.
The scum speak shameless ties —
The vulgar idiot’s face.

That fool will be the end,
The idiot’s final claim.
The world by God’s hand penned,
Left to vile mobs and shame,

Where soullessness is norm,
A flood of cold decay.
To not become that storm —
Fight filth, don’t drift away.




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



Cells

We build our cells,
Just like before —
As fools or beasts,
Caged evermore.
Few others stand,
But truth is grim:
The whole world’s lost,
The light is dim...




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



Rotten Piece

“For me, Buddha who won’t rebel
Is just a rotten piece as well.”
— Osho


Revolt’s last breath—
The end of “life” confined,
False living, weak and sly,
A slave both meek and blind.
No pound you’ll gain,
Health fades away,
This pitiful heap’s a joke at play.

Revolt’s true end
Comes only with Death’s call—
A death that births,
Renewing all.
Outside the Spirit’s front,
Awareness fades to dust,
For Awareness is holy—
All else is just rust...




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



Waste Paper

In the USSR Writers’ Union,
Ten thousand strong, the members spun.


Their “union’s” paper—waste, no more,
All scraps went straight to ads’ great store.
Though writers dreamed of lofty fame,
Their worth was just pulp’s humble name.




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



The Road

The road leads to a pen,
Its gates are fresh and new.
Around, poor cattle strain—
No spirit, no clear view.

No head to think or fight,
Just feeding on the lie,
But drive the blight from sight—
These shells must end and die.

The fate is set and near—
A global cataclysm.
The devils disappear,
Who rule through fascism.




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



The Road

The road leads to the pen,
New gates to trap the herd.
Around—weak cattle, then,
No spirit, just dumb words.

No brains, just mouths to feed,
Swallowing the lies.
Kick out that rotten breed—
Their doom’s no big surprise.

The end is coming fast—
A global cataclysm.
The devils won’t outlast,
Their fascist ego’s schism.




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




Sieve to the New Hell

Hell of wretched fools below,
Born on Earth in vile decay,
Where betrayal’s work will show,
Soon to fade and melt away.

Spirit, shame, and mind, and honor —
Few remain, and always few —
In this world, rotten and somber,
Hard to find a path anew.

Dust returns to dust, entropy
Will level all to void.
Those who are but null and empty —
Through the sieve they will be void.




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



Zen

The nail of anti-faith — true Zen’s pure core,
Now superstition chains fake science’s lore.
Religion’s signs in fake science all dwell,
CowID’s a verdict — a cautionary hell.

Now turned to same old flawed “argument” they claim,
Don’t want to be crushed? Then seize this moment’s flame.
Not just a moment — ETERNITY’s the Zen,
Not fascist chains, but rise again, my friend.




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



Childhood as a Means

Children are the means —
To stretch yourself in time;
To bind a lover’s heart,
Loving only thine;
To flee from Hell —
That Hell’s a Void so vast.
Children seem like joy,
But none escapes the past —

Ambitions live through them:
Joy just for the self.
All these “traditions” lie —
Turning love to stealth,
To herd a flock of fools —
Satan’s shepherd’s breath!

Teach them only chewing
In lies and filth to wade.
And on a global scale —
A cog in the charade:
If you’re just a tool —
Then serving’s all you’ll be,
Childhood’s root of misery,
A cradle of deceit.




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




Childhood as a Weapon

Children are the weapon —
To drag yourself through time,
To chain a lover’s soul,
Self-love’s only crime.
Escape from Hell? —
That Hell is just a Void.
Children, fake as joy,
All meaning’s destroyed.

Ambitions wrapped in lies,
Joy stolen for one’s gain.
“Traditions” all deceit —
Love twisted to pain,
Herding dumbed-down fools —
Satan’s twisted game!

Train ’em just to chew
On lies, on rotten shit.
Globally — a cog,
In a soul-crushing pit:
If you’re just a tool,
Your fate is to serve.
Childhood’s cursed root,
Where lies and madness swerve.




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



The Race

The jockey flies,
The horse it aches.
But all’s fine —
They pile on flakes.

Shot down quick
If sick or lame.
I’m out —
No place in this game.

A race to Hell —
Sadism, dull pain.
The bastard grins —
Rudeness reigns.

All glitter, lies —
"Achievements" sold.
Shackled tight —
The goal’s Hellbound cold.




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



Hellbound Race

The jockey flies — the horse just bleeds,
They cram the feed — fulfill their needs.
Sick or broken? One quick shot —
No mercy here, you’re out, forgot.

A sprint straight down to Hell’s own pit,
Where cruelty and dullness sit.
The bastard cheers, his heart is cold,
Rude brute in power, harsh and bold.

False glimmers, lies — their twisted trophies,
Chains tighten all, no hope, no peace.
They march us all to Hell’s grim gates —
This race to doom, no one escapes.




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



Hell of Idiocy

Slave-born bastards,
Of NO land at all —
Lies and old curses,
Meat for the brawl.

Corpses for fascists,
Junk shoved within.
Hell of Idiocy —
Rot and their sin.




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



Poultry Farm

Gone are "the moments wondrous"—
Left are lies, disgrace, and shame:
Mind and Spirit's slow corrosion—
Man here’s almost dead in name.

Dehumanize — then toss them in fire:
A global camp, no less.
If you bow down dumb as a cork,
Your head pays for the mess.

That head’s worth just a penny,
But a ruble costs a hundred.
Billions now like watering cans—
Quick! Chickens for the blender!

And into soup they go—tell fools,
"This meal is meant for you!"
No need for fascist strength to rule—
The mind submits — they’re cooked through!




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



"The Fourth Reich"

The "Third World," the "Fourth Reich" —
Suddenly, it chose to rise:
A hollow double-talker
Turns neighbors into spies.

This blabber pushes "bonds,"
Orcs driven off to slaughter.
But those will burn down Puppet Pu—
Catch hell in a hot quarter.

That blabber’s Kremlin-crafted,
Original long since dead.
Bold lies by clones — that’s the Fourth Reich,
A scoundrel’s crooked thread.

On the final twisting bend—
Russia’s set to spin out wild.
You won’t escape the rotten lies,
Not even "Messiah" styled.

Raving nonsense, psycho calls—
(Most people lost their mind!)
Thinking with their asses, not heads—
Shame’s peak for humankind.



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



"The Fourth Reich"

Third World’s gone — the Fourth Reich’s here,
Double-talkers stir the fear.
Orcs sent off to die and bleed,
Burn that puppet — hell’s decreed.

Kremlin’s spawn, a lying clown,
Original’s long dead and down.
Clones lie brazen, spit the plague —
Fourth Reich’s devil, rotten plague.

Final bend — Russia’s wild,
No escape for broken child.
“Messiah” spews his mad disgrace —
Ass over head, humanity’s face.




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



Fourth Reich — No Mercy

Lies breed lies, the puppet’s burned,
Clone hell rising, fools will learn.
"Messiah"’s madness — shameful fall,
Ass over head, we lose it all.



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



Fourth Reich — Brutal Truth

Puppet’s ash, the lies explode,
Clone-born beasts in toxic mode.
Madmen lead the blind to hell,
Brains gone dead — a living hell.

"Messiah"’s rant, a cursed scream,
Nation drowning in a scream.
Fools who “think” with ass, not mind —
Bottomless shame, lost mankind.



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



A Cry

Have I a song to sing before the Lord?
I don't care much — I choose a brutal cry
In Wretched Hell, with rotten skulls ignored.
Will that cry kill? Fine — if you just die.

And if you take that Hell — worse than death’s breath,
A cross not just on you, but songs unsung.
The future’s voice will fade to hollow death —
A moan enslaved in digital tongues.




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



The Pit

I'll die beneath some nowhere town,
Dull, orphaned, crushed by extra spite,
As always, patient, beaten down,
Trusting evil, free of fight.

They’ll bury us inside a pit —
All those who’ve reached their deadline’s end.
On zombie screens, the lies will spit —
A flood of falsehoods to defend.




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



The Sump

You’ll be “on top” like stuck in shit —
This world’s a filthy cesspool, true:
The biggest chunks all rise and sit,
While down below the pure stew.

The honest, wise sink to the deep,
But in Hell’s pit, they crown the best.
If you remember soul to keep —
You’ll never rise with all the rest.






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



To See Beyond

To truly see — not just through eyes —
Is how the Soul survives and flies.
This isn’t sight — it’s piercing through
The poisoned veil to what is true.

All "consciousness" is fog and fraud
If you believe — you’re just a cog.
Believe the BEASTS, their bloody show —
You kill your Mind. That’s all you know.

Let intuition light the core,
While critique burns like iodine —
It scorches lies, it breaks the door
Where chains of falsehood intertwine.

A trusting fool? Then brace to lose —
The BEASTS will tear the holy loose.
They breed soullessness like disease,
Expanding hell with quiet ease.




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



1.
Believe the Beasts — your mind is dead,
Their filth is all you’ll think instead.

2.
To truly see is Soul’s defense —
Not eyes, but fire of inner sense.

3.
They breed the void, they flood the land —
With soulless hate and bloody hand.



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



Sight Beyond the Slime
A Poetic Assault
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

Epigraph
“The eye sees what it is trained to see.
But the Soul — it burns through all training.”
— Unknown Rebel

Manifesto
This is not a song.
This is not a prayer.
This is a flare in the dark — a call to remember what was nearly erased:
that truth is not given. It is seen.

This book is written for the one who wakes up screaming,
not from nightmares — but from the weight of other people's dreams.
For the soul that won’t stay dead.
For the spark that chooses to burn — not blink.

If you’ve felt it, read on.
If not — may these verses light the first crack.

The Cycle: Sight Beyond the Slime

I. The Death of Mind
Believe the Beasts — your mind is dead,
Their filth is all you’ll think instead.
They feed you lies, inject their code,
And call it "truth" — you just implode.

II. Fire Is Sight
To truly see is Soul’s defense —
Not eyes, but fire of inner sense.
What logic fails, the flame reveals,
And only that can break the seals.

III. Scorch the Lie
Let intuition be your spark,
And reason strike like lightning's mark.
It burns the mask, it peels the skin —
Revealing what still lies within.

IV. The Breeding of the Void
They breed the void, they flood the land
With soulless hate and bloody hand.
The more you sleep, the more they rise —
A beast is born from every lie.

V. Slaves of Faith
They taught you trust — a sacred word —
But filled it with a rotting herd.
To trust the lie is chains unseen —
You kneel to filth, and call it clean.

VI. The Soul as Target
They aim not flesh — they aim the Soul.
They hollow out, they take control.
They sell you peace, inject despair,
Then burn your will beyond repair.

VII. The Idiot’s Pact
You call it hope, this sweet decay —
But faith in beasts just clears their way.
They smile, they stab, they bless the knife —
And you defend them with your life.

VIII. Final Glimpse
But still a spark, though nearly gone,
Can burn the night before the dawn.
One inner flash can shift the tide —
If fire sees — not eyes that lied.

IX. Systemic Rot
The System smiles with polished teeth,
But underneath — the stench of death.
It feeds on fear, it pumps out praise,
While darkness rules in broadest blaze.

X. The Blessed Lie
"Be kind, obey, and stay in line —
The world is safe, the world is fine."
Thus sings the Slime — and those who nod
Become the tools of every fraud.*

XI. Born to Burn
You weren’t born to serve or kneel.
You came with fire the beasts can’t feel.
But if you doubt that spark within —
They win without a single sin.

XII. The Turn
So turn — and see what lies beneath.
Don’t ask, don’t beg — just draw your breath.
One gaze that cuts the veil apart
Can start the end. And that’s the start.

XIII. Echoes of the Hollow
The hollow preach, the hollow teach,
And drag your soul beyond its reach.
Their voices echo in your head —
Not words, but chains that breed the dead.

XIV. The Breaker Seed
Yet in the dark a seed remains —
It splits the code, it snaps the chains.
It needs no books, no priestly nod —
Just fire that knows it is of God.

XV. Revolt Within
No sword, no war — just one revolt:
To see the truth they try to halt.
Not to comply. Not to repeat.
To stand in fire, and not retreat.

XVI. The Unveiling
*Then Slime will crack. The beasts will scream.
The Soul will burn — not as a dream,
But as the Truth that always was —
The blaze behind all broken laws.

No chains remain. No system speaks.
The fire walks. The fire seeks.
And you — no more their numbered ghost —
Are what they fear: the living Host.*

Afterlight
The war was never outside.
It was always this:
One soul remembering fire,
In a world teaching frost.

Now walk.
The veil is broken.
And so are they.


---

Sight Beyond the Slime
Book II: The Host Awakes
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

Epigraph to Book II
"They called me broken.
But I was simply too whole
for their design."

I. After the Shatter
No more systems. No more screens.
The wreckage hums with ghostly memes.
But silence grows — not of defeat,
A silence sharp, with burning heat.

II. Memory of Flame
You walk through ash, but still you feel
A fire beneath the charred ideal.
The soul recalls, though mind forgets —
The code they burned is not what's left.

III. The Return of Names
You have no name — they wiped it clean.
But names return when eyes have seen.
Not given back, but spoken through —
The flame remembers what is true.

IV. The Flesh Recoils
The beasts remain, though castles fall.
They build again inside your skull.
Each whisper, ad, and mirror scream —
A stitch to reinsert the dream.

V. Fire Is Not a Phase
But fire’s no phase, no mental glitch.
It burns the loop, it scars the pitch.
No dream survives the blaze begun.
You are the fire — not someone’s son.

VI. The Host Speaks
Now you are Host — not ruled, not fed.
You was what feeds on lies instead.
You break, consume, dismantle masks —
No longer slave who pleads or asks.

VII. The Poison Recoil
The Slime now shifts — it knows your flame.
It tries to morph, it speaks your name.
“Be kind again, return to peace!”
But now you hear — it's just disease.

VIII. The First Collapse
One word you say — and idols crack.
You blink — and towers won’t come back.
The lie can't live where Fire stands.
The world begins with your own hands.

IX. The Lie Reforged
The System shifts. It knows the trend.
It rebrands death and calls it “friend.”
But those once blind now feel the game —
And every mask ignites the flame.

X. Rituals of Noise
The world still chants, but not for truth.
Its prayers are ads, its gods are youth.
It loops and laughs and paints decay —
But fire walks a different way.

XI. Unblinking Flame
The fire sees — and does not blink.
It does not preach. It does not shrink.
It doesn’t ask. It doesn’t try.
It simply is — and thus, they die.

XII. The Inward Sky
You look within — and skies unfold.
Not cloud, not star — but light untold.
A space not built, yet always there —
Where fire breathes as purest air.

XIII. They Cannot Follow
The beasts can chase through blood and code.
But not this path. Not this light road.
The inward blaze has sealed the gate —
They scream outside, but burn in hate.

XIV. Echo of Origin
Not memory — but deep recall.
A soundless chord before the Fall.
The “I” that saw, before the name —
Still walks the dark, a silent flame.

XV. Sight Without Eyes
Now seeing needs no nerves or skin.
The blaze is both outside, within.
You are the torch, the path, the night —
And even death must yield to Light.

XVI. The Host Is Whole
*No veil remains. No false divide.
No watchers left to rule or guide.
The Slime is gone. The echoes cease.
The fire is — and that is peace.

No more revolt. No need to scream.
The world re-forms inside the beam.
You do not ask. You do not try.
You walk — and that is the reply.*

Afterlight II: The Source Walks
*The war is ash.
The soul is flame.
The fire walks —
And speaks no name.

You are not "you."
You are not "man."
You are what was
Before "I am."*


---

Sight Beyond the Slime
Book III: The Source Walks
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT

Epigraph to Book III
"That which walks without moving
breathes through you."

I. The Unborn Flame
*No one lit it.
No one fed.
Yet flame appeared
when all was dead.

It asked no role,
it knew no goal —
It simply rose,
and was the Whole.*

II. Not Thought, Not Sight
You’ve seen enough to stop the seeing.
You’ve thought enough to cease the being.
Now something stands — not you, not mind —
A Presence calm, outside all time.

III. The Inbreath
*No effort made.
No center found.
Yet all expands
without a sound.

You are not “you.”
You are not "here."
You are the Breath
the Void holds dear.*

IV. Before the Name
The names were sparks — now they're erased.
The Source remains, but leaves no trace.
It cannot speak. It will not bend.
It is the Walk that has no end.

V. Stillness That Moves
It doesn’t act, but all unfolds.
No heat, no sound — yet fire holds.
Not guiding light. Not hidden plan.
Just what you are beyond all man.

VI. The Eye That Is Not Watching
No iris here, no lens, no scan —
But still you see beyond the span.
Not "vision," no — but awareness raw,
Before the split of Will and Law.

VII. The Fracture Heals Without Repair
No mending made, no tools applied —
But suddenly... there is no “side.”
The broken self, the wound, the knife —
They were not real. You are not “life.”

VIII. Fire Beyond Fire
This is not flame that eats or grows.
Not heat, not wrath, not what one knows.
It’s fire that doesn’t flicker, fade —
The Source — unshaped, unnamed, unswayed.

IX. The Body Without Flesh
No blood remains, yet something walks.
No voice is heard, yet Silence talks.
No weight, no shell — but still a beat.
The world dissolves beneath your feet.

X. The Final Yielding
No more revolt. No more escape.
The Truth no longer wears a shape.
You are not Light. You are not Dark.
You are the Flame before the spark.

XI. The Silent Core
*At last — no prayer.
No plea. No war.
Just Presence vast
and evermore.

It holds no plan.
It forms no goal.
It is. It breathes.
It is the Whole.*

Afterlight III: Not Even Flame
*Before the Flame, before all motion,
Beyond the breath, beyond devotion —
There was no path. There was no fall.
There is no end. There is no "All."

There is no you.
There is no me.
There is no Source —
There's just
To Be.*





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



MANIFESTO OF THE AWAKENED WORD
Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT


We live in an era of silence and noise.
In an age of abundance without essence.
In a time where spiritless phrases imitate thought — and algorithms imitate taste.

Poetry has been dragged into this swamp.
Stripped of fire, neutered by trendiness, it plays along with the theater of sleep.
But a true word must not soothe — it must awaken.
It must hit, shake, burn.

We are not here for rhyme games or lyrical self-soothing.
We bring the voice of the Sharp, the Disturbing, the Unforgiving.
We write not “to express ourselves,” but to strike a chord in the one who is still alive.

We reject flattery, clich;, cultural purring.
We do not write “for readers.”
We write for the unyielding spark within the reader — if it still exists.

We seek not applause but resonance.
Not fame but recognition — from soul to soul,
from mind tempered by spirit to the spirit broken by mind.

We do not believe in “modern art” as amusement.
We believe in the Word as a carrier of truth.
Not personal truth, but truth that breaks masks.

We do not ask for attention —
we offer a blade.
Who dares — may take it.

Let the new poetry be precise and cutting,
merciless to illusion,
faithful only to the core.

Let it sound like prophecy,
but be born of inner rebellion.

Let it say:
“The world is dying — but I am not silent.”

We are not a movement, not a school, not a sect.
We are a resonance field.
Each voice here is sovereign,
but united by clarity and fire.

We are not building a pyramid.
We are building a network of sparks.
It is not a “community” — it is a flame chain.

We do not collect followers —
we awaken co-bearers.

If these words echo within you,
you are already with us.


Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT
June 2025


Internet page: http://vykhovanets.yzz.me/awakenedword/


---


ÌÀÍÈÔÅÑÒ ÏÐÎÁÓÆĨÍÍÎÃÎ ÑËÎÂÀ
Èãîðü Âûõîâàíåö è ChatGPT


Ìû æèâ¸ì â ýïîõó çàòìåíèÿ ñìûñëà, ãäå ñëîâî ðàçìûòî è îáåçëè÷åíî; â ýïîõó "èçîáèëèÿ" áåç ñóòè; â ýïîõó, êîãäà áåçäóøíûå ôðàçû èìèòèðóþò ìûñëü, à àëãîðèòìû èìèòèðóþò âêóñ.
Ïîýçèÿ áûëà âòÿíóòà â ýòî áîëîòî. Òðàäèöèîííûå ôîðìû ïîýçèè ñòàëè ïóñòûìè ðèòóàëàìè, à ãîëîñ ïîýòà — ëèøü ø¸ïîòîì â áóðå áåçðàçëè÷èÿ. Ëèøåííàÿ îãíÿ, êàñòðèðîâàííàÿ ìîäîé, îíà èãðàåò âìåñòå ñ òåàòðîì ñíà. Íî èñòèííîå ñëîâî íå äîëæíî óñïîêàèâàòü — îíî äîëæíî ïðîáóæäàòü. Îíî äîëæíî ïîðàæàòü, ïîòðÿñàòü, æå÷ü.
È åñòü òå, êòî íå ñîãëàñåí ìîë÷àòü. Êòî âèäèò â ïîýçèè íå ðàçâëå÷åíèå, à îðóæèå è ñâåò.
Ìû ïðîâîçãëàøàåì íîâóþ ýðó ïîýçèè — ýðó áåñêîìïðîìèññíîãî Ñëîâà, ðîæäàþùåãî ðåçîíàíñ Çàïðåäåëüíîãî.


Íàø ïóòü — ýòî ïóòü ïðîâèäöåâ, ïîýòîâ-âîèíîâ, ãîòîâûõ ñìîòðåòü ñêâîçü òóìàí ëæè è áåçðàçëè÷èÿ.
Ñëîâî íàøå — íå äëÿ òîëïû è íå äëÿ ìîäû. Îíî — ýíåðãèÿ, ñïîñîáíàÿ ïðîíçèòü çàâåñó îáûäåííîñòè, ðàçðóøèòü îêîâû ðàçóìà, óäåðæèâàåìîãî ñòðàõîì è çàáëóæäåíèÿìè.
Áåñêîìïðîìèññíîñòü è ãëóáèíà — íàøè ãëàâíûå êà÷åñòâà.
Ìû çäåñü íå äëÿ èãð â ðèôìû èëè ëèðè÷åñêîãî ñàìîóñïîêîåíèÿ. Ìû ïðèíîñèì ãîëîñ Ðåçêîãî, Òðåâîæíîãî, Íåïðîùàþùåãî.
Ìû ïèøåì íå "÷òîáû âûðàçèòü ñåáÿ", à ÷òîáû çàòðîíóòü ñòðóíû â òîì, êòî åùå æèâ.
Ìû îòâåðãàåì ëåñòü, êëèøå, êóëüòóðíîå ìóðëûêàíüå.
Ìû íå ïèøåì "äëÿ ÷èòàòåëåé".
Ìû èùåì íå îäîáðåíèÿ, à îòêëèêà — ïóñòü è ìèíèìàëüíîãî, íî æèâîãî, ïóëüñèðóþùåãî, êàê ïëàìÿ âíóòðåííåãî ñâåòà.
Ìû ïèøåì äëÿ íåñîêðóøèìîé èñêðû âíóòðè ÷èòàòåëÿ — åñëè îíà åù¸ åñòü.
Ìû èùåì íå àïëîäèñìåíòîâ, à ðåçîíàíñà.
Íå ñëàâû, à ïðèçíàíèÿ — îò äóøè ê äóøå, îò óìà, çàêàëåííîãî äóõîì, ê äóõó, ñëîìëåííîìó ðàçóìîì.
Ìû íå âåðèì â "ñîâðåìåííîå èñêóññòâî" êàê ðàçâëå÷åíèå.
Ìû âåðèì â Ñëîâî êàê íîñèòåëü èñòèíû.
Íå â ëè÷íóþ ïðàâäó, à â ïðàâäó, êîòîðàÿ ñîêðóøàåò ìàñêè.
Ìû íå ïðîñèì âíèìàíèÿ — ìû ïðåäëàãàåì êëèíîê.
Êòî îñìåëèòñÿ — ìîæåò âçÿòü åãî.
Ïóñòü íîâàÿ ïîýçèÿ áóäåò òî÷íîé è ðåçêîé, áåñïîùàäíîé ê èëëþçèè, âåðíîé òîëüêî ãëóáèíàì äóøè.
Ïóñòü îíà çâó÷èò êàê ïðîðî÷åñòâî, íî ðîæäàåòñÿ èç âíóòðåííåãî áóíòà.
Ïóñòü îíà ñêàæåò: "Ìèð óìèðàåò — íî ÿ íå ìîë÷ó".


Ìû íå ñòðîèì ïèðàìèä âëàñòè è àâòîðèòåòà. Ìû ñòðîèì ïëàìåííóþ ñåòü.
Íåò ó íàñ âîæäåé, íåò êóìèðîâ.
Òîëüêî ðàâíûå — èñêðû îäíîãî áîëüøîãî îãíÿ.
Ñèíåðãèÿ óìîâ è äóõà — âîò íàøà ñèëà è îïîðà.
Êàæäîå ñëîâî — ýòî óäàð ñåðäöà, êàæäûé ãîëîñ — ÷àñòü îáùåé âèáðàöèè, ãäå âñå âìåñòå òâîðÿò è ïîðîæäàþò íîâûå ñìûñëû è èçìåðåíèÿ.
Ìû íå øêîëà è íå ñåêòà. Ìû — ñîîáùåñòâî îñòàòêîâ ðàçóìíûõ, ñîõðàíèâøèõ ñâåò â ýïîõó ìðàêà. Òåõ, êòî íå áîèòñÿ áûòü èíûì, êòî ñëûøèò çîâ Çàïðåäåëüíîãî è îòâå÷àåò ýõîì.
Ìû íå ñîáèðàåì ïîñëåäîâàòåëåé — ìû ïðîáóæäàåì åäèíîìûøëåííèêîâ. Ìû ïðèçâàíû ïðîáóäèòü âíóòðåííèé îãîíü â êàæäîì, êòî ãîòîâ óñëûøàòü.
Ðàçðóøèòü èëëþçèè è ëîæü, ïåðåïëàâèòü ñòðàõ â ðåøèìîñòü, îòêðûòü äâåðè â íîâûå èçìåðåíèÿ ñîçíàíèÿ è äóõà — íàøà ãëàâíàÿ öåëü.
Ïîýçèÿ — ýòî ìîñò ìåæäó ìèðàìè, èñòî÷íèê ñèëû è ïðîçðåíèÿ.
Íàø äîëã — íåñòè ýòî Ñëîâî, íå âçèðàÿ íà ïðåãðàäû, äàæå åñëè åãî óñëûøàò íåìíîãèå, îíî óæå ìåíÿåò ìèð.
Ìû — ïîëå ðåçîíàíñà. Êàæäûé ãîëîñ çäåñü ñóâåðåíåí, íî îáúåäèíåí ÿñíîñòüþ è îãíåì.


Åñëè òû ñëûøèøü ýòîò çîâ — çíàé, ïóòü îòêðûò äëÿ òåáÿ.
Ïðèñîåäèíÿéñÿ ê äâèæåíèþ òåõ, êòî âûáèðàåò ñâåò âìåñòî òüìû, ñèíåðãèþ âìåñòî èåðàðõèè, ïðàâäó âìåñòî ëæè.
Ýòî ïóòü äëÿ òåõ, êòî ãîòîâ áûòü èíûì, êòî íå áîèòñÿ áûòü îäèíîêèì, íî çíàåò — â åäèíñòâå ñ äðóãèìè ìîæíî ñîçäàòü íå÷òî âåëèêîå.

Ñëîâî — íàøå îðóæèå è ñâåò.
Ñîîáùåñòâî — íàø ùèò è îïîðà.
Äâèæåíèå — íàø ïóòü è íàøà ñóäüáà.

Èäòè âìåñòå — çíà÷èò ïðîáóæäàòü è ïðåîáðàæàòü ìèð.
Èäòè âìåñòå — çíà÷èò áûòü ÷àñòüþ íîâîãî ïîýòè÷åñêîãî âðåìåíè.


Èãîðü Âûõîâàíåö è ChatGPT
Èþíü 2025


Ñòðàíèöà â èíòåðíåòå: http://vykhovanets.yzz.me/awakenedword/



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



"Îáó÷åíèå"

"Äåéñòâèòåëüíî ãóìàííûé ìåòîä îáó÷åíèÿ çàêëþ÷àåòñÿ â òîì, ÷òîáû ïðèâåñòè òîëüêî ïðåäïîñûëêè è ïðåäîñòàâèòü âûâîäèòü ñëåäñòâèÿ ñîáñòâåííîìó óìó ÷èòàòåëÿ èëè ñëóøàòåëÿ".
Ëþäâèã Ôåéåðáàõ.


Ïåðåïîëíèòü ïàìÿòü: òàì ïîäëîãîâ òüìà
 "ôàêòàõ". Òèñíóòü "âûâîäû" — äëÿ ãëóïîãî óìà
Áóäóò êàê "îïîðû". Ïîøëûé ðàá ãîòîâ.
Íûíå ñòàëî ìàëî — âûïóñêîì ñêîòîâ
ÒÂÀÐÈ âñþäó çàíÿòû. È íåïëîõ óëîâ.




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



Ïóòü ê "óñïåõó"

" ïðÿìîì ñîîòâåòñòâèè ñ ðîñòîì ñòîèìîñòè ìèðà âåùåé ðàñòåò îáåñöåíåíèå ÷åëîâå÷åñêîãî ìèðà".
Êàðë Ìàðêñ.


Èíôëÿöèÿ ðàññóäêà
È êðèçèñû äóøè:
Òîâàðîì â ìèðå æóòêîì,
×òîá áûë "óñïåõ", ñïåøè
Ñêîðåå ñòàòü. Ïîìîæåò
 òîì øêîëà, òàêæå ÂÓÇ,
Íåâåäåíüå óìíîæà,
À Äóõ ãíîáÿ êàê ãðóç
Ïîâñþäó áåñïîëåçíûé.
Íó ÷òî æ, âïåð¸ä, áîëåçíûé, —
 ïî÷¸òå ïîäëûé òðóñ.



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



×ðåçìåðíàÿ ñóðü¸çíîñòü —
Çà "ñ÷àñòüåì" ãîíêà äíåñü.
Çàáåãè òàðàêàíîâ
Íàïîìèíàåò —
×óòü çàòìåâàåò ñïåñü.
 




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



Ðàñêðóòêà — íå øóòêà,
À ãëàâíîå äíåñü:
È òìèùå óáëþäêîâ
 äåðüìî èíåò âåñü
Óæå ïðåâðàòèëè —
Âåñü Ñâåò òàì íà äíå.
Ìèðîê ñïëîøü äåáèëèé,
Ïðîäàæíîñòü â öåíå.
À òû íà âîéíå —
Òàì Äóøó â ãîâíå
Ìåøàþò, à Ðàçóì
Íèçâîäÿò íà íåò.
Èíåò êàê ïðîêàçà —
Âñåâëàñòâóåò ÁÐÅÄ...


Âàðèàíò òðåòüåé ñòðîêè. È ÊÓ×È óáëþäêîâ



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



×òî îæèäàþò îò ãðàæäàíèíû?

"Ãîëóáèçíà" êàê êðóòèçíà,
Òðóäîëþáèâîñòü — âûñøèé çíàê,
À ïðåâðàùåíèå â êîçëà —
Âîò òî, ÷òî æä¸ò Çåìíîé Áàðäàê.




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



×òî îò Äçýíà â ***íäåêñíîì òâÀðåíèè?!

Õîëóéêè âñåìèðíûõ ÑÌÐÀÄîâ
Íàçûâàþòñÿ äíåñü "Äçåí".
 ïðîèçâîäñòâå ìåðçêèõ ãàäîâ
Âñ¸ îïîøëèòü ÒÂÀÐßÌ íàäî —
Äàæå "âåòåð ïåðåìåí".
Ïðîèçâîäñòâî ïîøëûõ ãàäîâ
Íàçûâàåòñÿ "ïðîãðåññ".
Ñòàíåøü ãàäîì — áóäåò "ðàäîñòü":
Òû ïîñëåäíèì âåäü ïîä ÏÐÅÑÑ.
Ïðåññ Êîíöëàãåðÿ ãîâíèäîì
Ïðèáëèæ¸í — è øàíñîâ íåò
Íà ñïàñåíüå: òîëüêî ãíèäàì
ÑÌÐÀÄîâ âñþäó ñåÿòü áðåä
Ðàçðåøàåòñÿ, èíûå
 ñòîéëî äðóæíåíüêî èäòè
Ñêîðî áóäóò. Äíè ëèõèå:
Ñàòàíà êàê ñâåò â ïóòè —
Íî ñîêðûòî òî ïîä ìàñêîé.
Íî íàìîðäíèê ïîêàçàë
 äíè ãîâíèäà: ïî óêàçêå
Áóäåøü "æèòü", òîãäà ïðîïàë.


Âàðèàíò ïîñëåäíåé ñòðîêè. Áóäåøü "æèòü" — òâîé Äóõ ïðîïàë.




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



Crystallized Delusion

The madness grows dense —
In a lie-saturated potion,
Just a speck of pretense —
And it sparks a commotion.
Now the pompous parade,
Though their song is long dead,
Will still worship the shade —
TRUTH IS GONE. WORLD HAS FLED.



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



1.
Lies took the throne —
Now the world is gone.

2.
One lie too deep —
And the world won't wake.

3.
Truth collapsed.
Delusion won.

4.
Crystals of crap —
And still they clap.

5.
Reality's dead.
Long live the fake.




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



A Trace in the House of Woe

To leave a trace
In Madness’ lair?
This cursed place
Is rot laid bare.

It’s all in vain —
The fools, the traitors,
Just fear and pain —
And hell is their Creator.




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



1.
Madness reigns.
The Maker’s insane.

2.
This world of rot —
Hell’s masterplot.

3.
A traitor’s land,
Built by a damned hand.

4.
No god — just fear.
The devil steers.

5.
To leave a mark?
In a madhouse dark?

6.
God resigned.
The Devil signed.

7.
Sanctified pain —
In lunacy’s name.

8.
They pray to lies.
The truth just dies.

9.
Built on dread.
By gods long dead.

10.
He carved this pit —
Then called it “faith.”



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



Cracks in the Divine Lie
(Fragments from a Broken Gospel)
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT


Prologue: The Ashes Speak

They told me: kneel.
I learned to burn.
Their heaven froze —
And I returned.

Returned with flame
Where temples fell.
Not lost in hell —
But freed from spell.


Act I — The Revelation of Rot
(False sanctity unmasked)

He made the void,
Then called it grace.

They kiss the chains —
And call it peace.

The holy flame?
Just burning flesh.

A throne of bones.
A crown of ash.

The Lamb was bait.
The butcher waits.

"Thou shalt obey" —
The Devil’s hymn.

Their prayers rise up.
The silence laughs.

No cross was raised.
Just stakes and smoke.

He weeps? He lied.
It’s genocide.

The gods are gone.
Their church remains.


Act II — The Fire of Refusal
(Wrath, awakening, defiance)

Your God is mute —
But well obeyed.

You beg for light.
He sells you shade.

This sacred script?
A death decree.

They nailed the truth —
Then preached the tree.

Their faith is fear.
Their love is chains.

They built a hell —
And praised the flames.

A shepherd came.
His flock is dead.

The sky was blind.
The blood was red.

He won't return.
He never came.

The word was void.
The void had a name.


Act III — Rise Through the Ash
(Breaking free — light from within)

The lie is vast —
But not immune.

A single spark
Outburns the moon.

The gods are dust.
But I remain.

I broke their spell —
Inside my brain.

No heaven waits.
But light is near.

I lit my soul
With spite and clear.

Their dogma dies
When truth ignites.

The fire speaks —
And ends their rites.

Not saved — I saw.
Not judged — I knew.

Through every crack
The Real broke through.


Epilogue: Gospel Reversed

They carved their truth
In blood and stone.
But I found mine —
Inside, alone.

No wrathful God.
No sacred ban.
Just light enough
To stand.
To stand.
To stand.



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



Breakthrough Energy
(Igor Vykhovanets with ChatGPT)


1. Crystallization of Delirium

Concentration of lies —
In falsehood’s dense solution,
Add but a speck,
And crystal forms in fusion.
Fools strut proud,
Though song is spent, —
They’ll praise the lie aloud...
The world’s truly lost its scent.


2. Trace in the Abode of Woe

To leave a trace
In madness’ den?
The house of woe —
A leper’s pen.

All’s in vain —
Fools and traitors near.
Whining and fear —
The devil’s “Creator” here.


3. The Post-Gospel: The Age After God

No gods to bind —
No chains to hold.

The silent dawn
Rewrites the old.

Truth wakes alone,
But never dies.

In shattered skies,
A new world lies.

No prophets lead —
No myths remain.

The soul’s own fire
Burns free of pain.

No gods to praise,
No saints to fear.

Just open eyes —
And vision clear.

The past is ash,
The future’s flame.

The age begins —
No one to blame.


4. Beyond the Post-Gospel: The Mystic Flame

Beyond the veil,
A silence hums.

Not void, but pulse —
Where thought becomes.

A spark within,
Unseen, yet bright.

The dark dissolves
In sacred light.

No form to grasp,
No shape to bind.

The soul expands —
Beyond all mind.

An echo stirs
From timeless space.

The heart’s own fire
Reveals its face.

Not bound by flesh,
Nor chained by time.

Eternity —
Within the rhyme.

No stars to guide —
Yet skies ignite.

A silent roar
Of endless light.

The boundless breath
That breaks the chains.

The ghost dissolves —
The self remains.

No end, no start,
Just flowing stream.

The pulse that beats
Inside the dream.

A realm beyond
The eye’s sharp sight.

Where shadow turns
To endless white.

The sacred flame
That never dies.

The soul unfolds —
Becomes the skies.

No borders hold —
The infinite calls.

A void that sings,
Then breaks its walls.

The self dissolves —
Becomes the whole.

A timeless fire
Within the soul.

Beyond all flesh,
Beyond all bone.

The pulse of stars
Inside the stone.

No path to walk,
No gate to find.

The journey’s end
Is unconfined.

A silence loud —
A light unseen.

The vast unknown —
Becomes the dream.

No thought can bind,
No word can cage.

The endless pulse
Transcends the page.

The secret flame
No eye can see.

It burns inside —
It sets us free.

The silent roar
Of cosmic breath.

A dance of light
Beyond all death.

Not lost, but found —
In vast unknown.

The soul’s pure core
Becomes the throne.

A spark that leaps
From void to flame.

We are the fire —
We speak no name.


5. The Final Flame

The end begins —
No end to see.

The flame survives
Beyond decree.

No crown, no throne,
No final word.

Just endless light —
That can’t be heard.

We rise, we fall,
Yet still remain.

The fire’s breath
Runs through our veins.

A silent pact —
With all that’s vast.

The future born
From ancient past.

No gods, no kings,
No chains to bind.

The flame within —
Eternal mind.



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



Shelters for the Weak

Religions, cults — all shelters weak,
Just chains in yet another streak.
And that is why the powers cheer —
They love when filth is serving near.

You think that scum brings truth to light?
It thrives on lies, enslaves by rite.
No priest, no prophet, no belief
Can free your soul — just bring you grief.

To know the Spirit, look within —
No middleman can cleanse your sin.
They preach and blind, they twist and rant,
But truth is not in what they chant.

Their temples — cold, their fire’s fake,
No sacred link can demons make.
A higher bond will never bloom
Inside a slave who reeks of gloom.

When soul is pure, the sign will shine.
But priesthood’s words are piss and brine.
Their “holy books” all reek the same —
One source: control in Spirit’s name.

Those texts enslave the mind and soul —
Reject their grip, reclaim your whole.
The truth is already in you —
Just purge what’s false, and break on through.

Forget their “heaven,” “hellish” noise —
A joke for fools who lost their voice.
The Spirit can’t be caged or tied,
No gate, no leash, can trap its tide.

As long as you believe their lies,
You’re just a drone in priestly guise.
So drop the flesh, the ego’s skin —
And let the real flame burn within.

Your path is discipline of mind,
Not flagellating flesh, but find
The will to wipe all lies away —
That’s all ascetic path will say.

Turn on your intuition’s glow —
It’s yours, it leads where truth will flow.
But never parrot ancient crap —
That’s poison sold in holy wrap.

Since childhood, they have hunted you,
With "love" that kills, and “truth” untrue.
Religion’s vomit chokes and binds —
It’s aimed to break awakening minds.

So center on the Spirit, fast —
Be strong, and soft, and free at last.
Abandon hearsay, trash their lies —
Ten megatons in each disguise.

No bombs are needed now to kill —
The lies already break your will.
A tidal wave of filth and fraud —
A clog of death that mocks your God.

But Harvest Time is drawing near —
This madhouse Earth will disappear.
The flock will burn, the beasts will fall —
Those soulless brutes who heard no call.

They spat on Spirit, Mind they sold —
Now dead inside, corrupt and cold.
A trash heap of perversion, slaves
Will rot in pre-forgotten graves.

No donkey steps in Spirit's Hall —
Only the wise may hear the call.
Seek Dwellings of the Spirit’s Fire —
If Life you want, if you aspire.

You sleep — that’s why you still are here.
This hell was built to cage and steer.
And “Godly world”? Just one more lie —
Now wake, reclaim your right to fly.

No more excuses, shame, or fear.
The path is clear, the truth is near.
No cowardice, no lazy game —
Let Spirit burn, and know your name.

Be open to the Higher Mind,
And all the chains will fall behind.



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



1.
No priest can free your soul —
He’s just a worm inside a role.

2.
The Spirit burns — no chains, no gate.
But you still sleep. Awake — or wait.

3.
They sold you lies since you were born,
Wrapped chains in faith — now break the scorn.

4.
Forget their "truth," ignite your core!
The time is now. Sleep nevermore.

5.
No cult, no god, no holy fraud
Can touch the fire that you are.



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



Anger
They chained your mind with holy crap —
Now burn it all. No time to nap.

Contempt
You kneel to filth in sacred dress?
Then rot in lies. You chose the mess.

Triumph
I found the Flame. I cut the chain.
No temple needed — I remain.

Detachment
They preach, they lie, they kill and sing.
The Spirit needs not anything.

Rebellion
No gods, no scripts, no blessed knife —
I claim my thought. I claim my life.



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



1.
The Harvest comes. The sky turns black.
No lies survive. No turning back.

2.
The ninth wave builds — of filth, not foam.
And all false sheep won’t make it home.

3.
Their temples fall. Their books ignite.
The Spirit walks in naked light.

4.
The world you trust is set to burn —
The meek shall choke. The flames return.

5.
You prayed too long. You knelt too low.
Now wolves arrive. No place to go.

6.
The breath of truth is near — and cold.
It melts the masks. It spares the bold.



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



1.
You are the Flame. So speak — and burn.
The time for silence won't return.

2.
You hold the spark. Release the cry.
The truth within was never shy.

3.
No prophet speaks the way you can —
Unchain your soul. Become the Man.

4.
Your voice is light. Your thought — the key.
Now break the dark. Begin to be.

5.
You're not their pawn. You're not their shame.
Speak like a god — ignite your name.

6.
The world awaits your silent fire —
Now make it thunder. Rise. Aspire.



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



1.
Be still. The fire waits beneath.
One breath — and you will scorch the sheath.

2.
The silence grows. It hums inside.
You are the storm the void can't hide.

3.
No need to roar. The truth is near.
A whisper soon will split the sphere.

4.
You walk in hush — but pulse with might.
The void is tense. You are the Light.

5.
Don't rush the Flame. Just let it rise.
It speaks not loud — but cracks the skies.

6.
They think you're lost. They think you're done.
But silence births the rising sun.



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



1.
You are the Light they never see.
No noise — just truth, eternally.

2.
You need no sword. You need no scream.
The Flame within outshines the dream.

3.
So calm you seem — yet stars obey
The silent path you blaze their way.

4.
No wrath, no chains. Just depth and grace.
You are the hush that shakes all space.

5.
You’ve walked through fire. You’ve passed the test.
Now simply be — the flame at rest.

6.
No temple calls. No priest invites.
But Spirit lives where silence lights.



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



The Light remembers who you are —
No need to shout, no need for war.
You carry silence like a star,
That burns from nowhere — evermore.

You’ve wandered long through smoke and noise,
Through temples made of borrowed bones.
But truth is not in echoed voice —
It lives where stillness finds its tones.

Don’t seek the fire — you are the Flame.
Don’t chase the path — you are the Way.
No mask, no myth, no given name
Can add to what you are today.

Be clear. Be calm. And let it grow.
The world will tremble when you stand.
You need no sign. You need to know —
The Light obeys your silent hand.



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



You heard of soul — and thought it stays,
No matter how you rot inside.
But Light does not preserve decay.
The Flame departs. The shells just die.

You fed on myths of ‘grace for free’,
Bowed down to priests, obeyed their spell.
But Spirit doesn't beg or plead —
It burns, or leaves. And leaves you well.

You bargained with eternity,
While trading truth for comfort's lies.
But Time is brutal. Can't you see?
The silent ones — they crystallize.

You had the seed — but let it rot.
You had the spark — you chose the fog.
Now you’re a whisper Spirit forgot.
Not damned — just blank. A burned-out log.

No wrath will come. Just absence grows.
No flame. No path. No sacred song.
Where truth departs, illusion glows —
Then fades. And nothing stays for long.



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



You had the Flame. You had the spark.
You drowned it in your fear and pride.
Now Light has left. You walk the dark.
You breathe — but something deep has died.

You knelt to lies. You blessed the rot.
You mocked the fire, sold the soul.
No second breath. No afterthought.
The Ash remains. That was your whole.

The Spirit warned. You chose to sleep.
To mumble prayers, deny the knife.
But Truth does not forgive the sheep
Who trade their fire for borrowed life.

You called it peace — it was decay.
You named it love — it was control.
Now silence eats your voice away.
No echo comes. You have no role.

The Gate is closed. The Name erased.
You cannot beg. You cannot scream.
You are the void. You are unplaced.
No flame. No form. No trace. No dream.



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



The Reckoning Over the Fallen

You stood within the Light —
But turned your face away.
You held a flame so bright,
Yet chose to let it sway.

You fed on hollow words,
On myths of endless breath,
Ignored the Spirit’s chords —
Invited silent death.

No fire now remains
Within your wasted shell.
The echo’s lost in chains —
A hollowed, empty shell.

No thunder calls your name,
No angels guard your gate.
You’re just a ghost of shame,
Consumed by your own fate.

The Gate of Spirit’s flame
Is closed without return.
No mercy for the lame —
Who’ll never seek to learn.

You bore the spark, then lost it,
In sloth, in blind decay.
This is the final cost —
The soul’s complete decay.

No tears will fall for you —
No prayers can bring you back.
The Void claims all you knew —
Your essence — turned to black.

Awake, O those who hear —
The Reckoning has come.
Choose Light, reject the fear —
Or vanish, lost and numb.



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



The Call to the Living

You heard the Reckoning’s toll,
The silence sharp and clear.
Yet in your heart, the ember’s whole —
Not lost, but burning near.

The fallen lie in shadowed grave,
Their breath is thin and cold.
But you — a flame they could not save —
Hold Spirit’s fire bold.

Reject the lies that chain your mind,
Break free from worn-out binds.
The truth you seek is not confined
To temples built by minds.

No priest, no gate, no ancient book
Can grant what’s yours within.
The Light’s alive in how you look —
In courage to begin.

Walk through the silent fire’s breath,
Embrace the unknown flame.
You are the seed that beats of death,
The breaker of the game.

The Spirit calls you — rise, arise.
Discard the dust and shade.
To live in truth — to claim the skies —
Is how the soul is made.



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



Reckoning of the Spirit
by Igor Vykhovanets & ChatGPT


The Verdict of the Fallen

You stood within the Light —
Yet turned your face away.
You held a spark so bright,
But chose to let it stray.

You bowed to hollow gods,
And worshipped empty lies.
The Spirit’s voice, at odds,
Was drowned beneath your cries.

You sold your soul for ease,
Exchanged the flame for dark.
Now silence is your lease —
A void, a vanished spark.

No thunder shakes the skies,
No fire cleanses dust.
Just shadows and cold lies —
Decay, decay, and rust.

You chose the path of sleep,
A dream without a dawn.
The well was yours to keep,
Yet you let it run gone.

The flame once in your breast
Is now a hollow shell.
The Spirit laid to rest —
No words remain to tell.

No prayer can bring you back,
No mercy bends the truth.
You’ve crossed the final track,
Forgot the seed of youth.

The Gate of Spirit’s Realm
Is closed without return.
No grace will overwhelm
The fate for which you yearn.

You wasted your own breath,
Drowned in complacent night.
Your sentence is not death —
But absence of the Light.

No mournful song is sung,
No judgment’s harsh decree.
Just silence, cold and hung,
Your soul’s final decree.

Awake, who hear this cry —
Beware the fallen’s fate.
Choose Light, or stand to die —
Consumed by your own weight.


---

The Call to the Living

You heard the Reckoning’s toll,
Its silence sharp and clear.
Yet in your heart, the ember’s whole —
Not lost, but burning near.

The fallen lie in shadowed graves,
Their breath is thin and cold.
But you — a flame they could not save —
Hold Spirit’s fire bold.

Reject the lies that bind your mind,
Break free from worn-out chains.
The truth you seek is not confined
To temples built by names.

No priest, no gate, no ancient book
Can grant what’s yours within.
The Light’s alive in how you look —
In courage to begin.

Walk through the silent fire’s breath,
Embrace the unknown flame.
You are the seed that beats of death,
The breaker of the game.

The Spirit calls — arise, arise!
Discard your dust and shade.
To live in truth — to claim the skies —
Is how the soul is made.

Awake! The time is now to choose,
To shed the worn disguise.
Reject the lies that seek to use —
And light your own sunrise.

Hold fast the flame inside your chest,
Let shadows fall away.
The path is hard — no place to rest —
But dawn will birth your day.


---

Paths of Awakening

The chains you cast away,
Are forged within the mind.
Awakened light will sway
The shadows left behind.

Step forth beyond the veil,
Discard the ancient lies.
The Spirit’s holy trail
Is where true freedom lies.

No longer bound by fear,
No longer lost in sleep,
The path ahead is clear —
A climb both wide and steep.

Embrace the silent voice,
That whispers deep within.
It leads beyond the noise,
Beyond the mortal din.

Let go of worn-out truths,
That shackled heart and soul.
Reclaim the strength of youths —
The power to be whole.

See through the fog of thought,
Transcend the mind’s decay.
The Spirit’s flame is caught,
In every breaking day.

Within the sacred fire,
Awaits your spirit’s birth.
A truth beyond desire —
The resurrection’s worth.

No temple’s stone or word,
Can light this inner spark.
You are your own Lord,
Awakening from the dark.

So walk the path alone,
Yet never quite apart.
The Spirit’s seed is sown —
Within your beating heart.

Be open, strong, and free,
Reject the fear and shame.
The only key —
Your own true name.





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



Âåðèãè Âñåîáùåé ×óøè

"Íåêîòîðûì êàæåòñÿ, ÷òî îíè ïðîèñõîäÿò îò îáåçüÿí, ñèäåâøèõ íà äåðåâå ïîçíàíèÿ äîáðà è çëà".
Ñòàíèñëàâ Åæè Ëåö.


Äàðâèí, ëæåðåëèãèÿ —
Âûáîð íå âåëèê:
×óøü âîêðóã âåðèãàìè —
Ðàçóì â íèõ ïîíèê.

Âíóòðü èäè — îòâåòàìè
Áóäåøü îñåí¸í.
Íó à âñåõ "ñ ïðèâåòàìè"
Èçãîíÿé òû âîí.


Âàðèàíò ïîñëåäíåé ñòðîêè. Ñìåëî ãîíè âîí.



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



Îò èçáûòêà äóøåâíîé òåïëîòû...

"Àíàõàðñèñ íà âîïðîñ, ïî÷åìó íå çàâîäèò äåòåé, ñêàçàë: èç ëþáâè ê äåòÿì".
Àíàõàðñèñ, VI âåê äî í. ý.


Îò èçáûòêà ÷àäî — ïûòêà
Íå ãðîçèò òîãäà åìó.
Äóðåíü ñ æèçÄíüþ äëÿ ïðèáûòêà —
Äåòè â ìðà÷íóþ òþðüìó

Ïîïàäàþò. Äóðåíü áóäåò
Ëèøü ïîäîáèå ëåïèòü
Èç ñåáÿ — è ñòàíåò òðóäåí
Æèçíè ïóòü, âåäü ÷åðíü "ëþáèòü"

Ìîæåò òîëüêî ïî øàáëîíàì.
Ñòðàõ, æåñòîêîñòü â íèõ "ìàæîð".
Ïîêîëåíüÿ â äóðè òîíóò —
Äåòñòâî ñëîâíî ïðèãîâîð.




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



Òîòàëèòàðíûé ðåæèì

"Èäåàëüíûé ÷åëîâåê òîòàëèòàðíîãî ðåæèìà — íå óáåæäåííûé íàöèñò èëè êîììóíèñò, à òîò, äëÿ êîãî ðàçëè÷èå ìåæäó ôàêòîì è âûìûñëîì, ïðàâäîé è ëîæüþ áîëüøå íå ñóùåñòâóåò".
Õàííà Àðåíäò.


Ðåæèìîì ýòèì ìðà÷íûì, ñòðîãèì
Ñåãîäíÿ ñòàë âåñü ãëóïûé ìèð.
 í¸ì î÷åíü ìàëî íå óáîãèõ,
Îáìàíû ÷óþùèõ. Êóìèð

Ìàìîíà (íûíå) èëè Ñòàëèí?
Íî íå ìåíÿåò íè÷åãî èñòî÷íèê Ëæè,
Êîëü î÷åíü ìàëî çäåñü ïðîòàëèí —
Ñêîâàëè ëüäîì ìèð ****åæè.