27 стихов

Постоянное оскорбление Искры Бога глупой жизДнью
 
В униженье псевдожизнью
Каждый с детства помещён.
В том итогом куча слизней:
Подчиненье их Закон.
 
Сохраняют единицы
Искру Бога потому.
И веками Ад здесь длится —
В нём кирдык Душе, Уму.
 




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Несмазанный добротой "механизм Души"

Движется работа,
Но скрипит Душа
Без тепла, заботы
ПУТЬ свершить спеша.



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The Ultimate Generalization


They generalize from failure—
That's the pattern, every time.
One truth cuts like a razor:
This whole world is filth and slime.

Under reign of devil's minions
It’s been twisted through the years.
What remains in their dominion?
Just a flicker, drowned in fears.

They now breed, like grains of madness,
New editions of the fool.
Is he sold-out scum?—With gladness!
No, he is the standard rule.

And the breed of Spirit-People
Fades in darkness, lost in dreams.
They were targeted and crippled
By those bloodless, silent schemes—

Many wars without a battle
Were unleashed to dim their light.
They’re not over. Hell will rattle
Till they rise again and fight.

Now the tipping point is over,
And the barrel cracks below.
Next—catastrophes like clover,
Hell’s abyss begins to grow.

Spirit—Fire: one ignition.
But Hell sweeps to burn the Flame.
Years ahead bring dark attrition—
Fools will shriek, consumed in shame.

Will the People of the Spirit
Find at last their sacred peace?
Not in peace—creation’s merit
Is to burn, rebuild, release!



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Fools Will Burn — the Fire Stays Pure.
Spirit Creates. That’s the Cure.



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“Thus Spoke Zarathustra…”

Zarathustra’s voice rang true,
They once called him wise one too.
“Listen inward — heed your light,
Only that will guide you right.

Only inner light reveals,
Truth that burns, and wounds, and heals.
Every answer lies inside —
Dawn is near, just let it rise.”

Now the world is Hell’s domain,
Lies pour down like acid rain.
When you find that flame — be still.
Only you can break that seal.

Give that key to none — it breaks.
Each soul has its own heartquakes.
Fools obey another’s chart —
Demons smile. That’s how they start.

Trusting them — you seal your pact.
Now you’re branded as their “sect.”
Horns won’t show — their game is stealth.
Lies: the weapons of their wealth.



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Your Light within — or Hell begins.
Trust the Herd — the Demon wins.



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Goblins

Goblins, beaten to the core —
Lies and violence, filth and war.
Darkness rules their daily mess,
Fear the root of their success.

Even goblins lie within,
Trapped in cycles, soaked in sin.
Homeless hearts and dead ideals —
Genocide behind the wheels.

Genocide — their holy code,
Driven by the demon’s load.
Even filth sits on the throne —
Slow decay to rot the bone.

Goblins, broken, dead inside,
Nowhere left for them to hide.
Satan’s land will bloom and grow
From the bones they’ll leave below.



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Goblins rot — and Hell will feast.
Satan sows them, bone by beast.



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Trash

What falls down is rarely lost —
Still, true worth has a real cost.
Most just carry worthless trash,
Raised by brutes, they talk like rash.

Rudeness shapes their education.
Pass that test — and your salvation
Is to feel, and think, and see —
Leave that junk to idiocy.

All true wealth lives deep inside —
See it now, with open stride.
Else you’ll vanish in the flood
Of dead trash and rotting mud.



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Inner Wealth or outer Waste —
Choose the Light, or rot in haste.



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Rams and the Not-So-New Gate

The gate’s not new — the same old path,
To slaughterhouse and steaming bath.
For meat and wool, the beasts are led
By hands that paint the threshold red.

They paint it bright, they stoke the flame,
You walk in smiling — just the same.
If food's your goal, then feast, be glad —
You're just a dish. And that is sad.



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The gate’s not new — it ends in fire.
You eat — and fuel the butcher’s choir.



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"Too Much Mind"? — More Like Too Much Rot

Old folks slip — it's fate, they say.
Fools get yoked and led astray.
When the mind’s a shattered pit,
All the world turns into shit.

Rare exceptions still survive —
But not long. The poisoned hive
Strikes at those who dare to see,
Pulling minds into the sea.
Go on — drown. No dignity.

If you float, they’ll twist your core,
Make you filth, a fool, a bore.
Strength runs dry in thinking men —
Stench and Fear and Shame again...

Fear for all. This circus show
Is a dumbed-down, shamed tableau.
Brains are cursed in such a land —
But this world’s time is at hand.

Soon it sinks, and none will weep,
For the crimes are foul and deep:
Fascist rage, the cult of death,
And dumb decay that chokes our breath.



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When the mind is feared and banned —
Only rot will rule the land.



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The Mirror

The “mirror” shattered —
Mind went dim, then died.
The core was scattered —
No more us inside.



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Mirror’s gone — and so are we.
Mind erased identity.



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The Mirror


The sacred mirror’s torn apart —
No mind, no flame, no guiding heart.
The Core is gone, the Light grew thin —
And “We” dissolved... where once had been.



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The mirror cracked — the soul withdrew.
No more us — just shadows through.



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The Mirror

The mirror cracked — the mind grew dim,
The Light within was crushed by him.
The Core is lost, replaced by Shade —
No us remains, just shadows made.



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Mirror broken, shadow’s throne—
Light is gone, we stand alone.



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The Mirror (Mystic Shadow)


The mirror shattered, soul undone —
The fading Light is overrun.
Within the Core, the Shadow wakes,
And swallows all the self it takes.

No more we, just drifting ghosts,
Lost between the spectral coasts.
The veil descends — the silent night,
Where shadows feast on vanished light.



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Shattered glass, the soul’s eclipse,
Shadow’s dance on ghostly lips.



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The Mirror

The mirror’s shattered — sacred glass,
Once held the soul’s reflected past.
Now Light dissolves, the Veil descends,
Where ancient Shadow never ends.

The Core, once bright — a mystic flame,
Extinguished in the silent game.
The rites forgotten, secrets lost,
The ghosts now wander, tempest-tossed.

No more us in twilight’s grip,
The self dissolves — a ghostly ship.
Through mystic halls where echoes fade,
The Shadow claims the soul it made.



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Shattered mirror, secrets drowned,
Shadow’s rites—no light is found.



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The Global Sheepish Auschwitz

Auschwitz closed — a new one’s built,
A stifling world for fools and silt.
A realm obsessed with “care” and pain,
Where sheep and cows get shots on chain.



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Auschwitz done — but still they herd,
"Vaccines" line the dumb and blurred.



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The Hellish Cycle of Sorcery

Scattered efforts, fractured mind,
Dullness follows, weak and blind,
Lost within a sea of lies—
Filth that blinds and never dies.

Entangled in the petty snare,
Survival’s trap, the cruel despair.
The method vile, the soul’s slow kill,
The Devil’s dance, relentless will.

This is Hell, the darkest night.
Dance to this or lose the fight.
Evil beasts will kill with ease—
Your soul’s last breath, a dying breeze.

Soullessness their sweet delight,
Their "life’s" aim, their endless blight.
Trust no fiend, but guard your mind—
Grow your thought, refuse the blind.

Intuition, sharp critique,
Are the weapons that you seek.
Against wild lies that spin and burn—
Hell’s own sorcery, its turn.