The Global Corral, songs with variations

Sterility, or The Coming Digital Concentration Camp

A meek and brainwashed nation,
By rulers’ whim transformed,
Embraced its sterilization,
By cleanness now conformed.

Sterile minds—no thought infection
Will ever take its toll.
All turned to data sections,
Each zero under control.

The only pressing matter—
To multiply by none.
Through memes, the masses shatter,
Their thinking overrun.

In the World Camp’s formation,
Evil will have no stress—
For numbers need no station
Beyond a charted press.

The Machine will ever mandate
Its orders, cold and stark,
And thus the Camp’s grim fate
Will crumble into dark.



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



"The Golden Mean" for fools who grovel

Beer corrupts, as does the liquor,
Lies destroy, and “balanced figures”
Lost among a crowd of creeps—
Madness rules where darkness seeps.

True worth lies in deviation,
Breaking chains of degradation.
Global madness reigns supreme,
While villains call their rot the “mean.”

CowID exposed their fraud,
Wars ignited—gnats applaud.
Once again, the lies will gather,
"Healing", warring—does it matter?

Till they “heal” us into ruin,
Under tyrants’ thumbs pursuing
Nothing good, no path to glory—
Just grim years of sorrow’s story.

Only battle saves your soul:
Be yourself and take control.
Kill you, they might—but spirit’s whole.
In Sodom’s grip, this is the goal.

All else fades—a hollow chase,
A “life” that’s lost in petty waste.
You’ll reap dark karma, feed despair,
And turn the world into a lair.

We’re all to blame, each one complicit,
Through apathy, we make it explicit.
“To the golden mean!” they cheer—
Where beasts are made of those they jeer.



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



Mawkishness

The murk of metaphor and flair,
Adorning verse with hollow airs,
Is like a colon placed with care,
While meaning’s lost in distant lairs.

Imagery and lyric’s worth
In vile, profane, and broken lands
Is cheap. We need colossal work
To fight as Reason makes its stand.

Leave to fools the syruped line
That drips with verbal diarrhea.
Still, time draws the final sign —
The world spins faster toward its fear.

Monstrous BEASTS have set the pace,
CowID revealed the fools' charade.
A world of madness, blind disgrace —
Where Reason's light begins to fade.



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



Dreaming of the American Dream

“The Free World.” A pub. A rental home.
A fleeting shelter—your life’s frame.
A waitress, striving, yet alone.
For some, this dream’s the world’s acclaim.

Yet chains of slavery never slacken,
A truth the blind will not believe.
They cling to myths, their reason blackened—
The “free world” lie they won’t perceive.



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



The Smokescreen for Reason

"Religion is the chief bridle for the masses, the great intimidation of fools, a towering screen that blocks people’s sight of earthly deeds, forcing their eyes to the skies."
— Alexander Herzen


A "heavenly" haze,
A stifling maze,
It cages the mind,
Enslaves humankind.

No fetters can bind,
Nor blinders confine,
As tight as this veil—
A fool’s doomed trail.

To munch and to pray,
Then sink all the way
To darkness below—
It’s all they know.

This shameful charade
Forever has stayed.
To wake up the fool?
Just dash him 'gainst a cruel...



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



Russia’s Friendship with North Korea

"Tell me who your friends are, and I'll tell you who you are."
— Proverb


Who calls you "friend"?
Is it Korea?
The lies descend,
Their pace grows speedier.

In Russia, where deceit runs wild,
They race to match Juche’s beguiled,
Outdoing them in pompous tone—
Where cruelty chills to the bone.

Both lands degrade the "people’s" name,
Reducing them to beasts in shame.
Yet fools still trust the tyrants' lies,
And build—what? Hell for demon ties?

For in such lands, as truth decays,
Few Human souls remain to blaze.



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



Prison of the mind

Reason –
prison:
bound wi'thin,
every man – phantom's kin.



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



Stagnation in a city and in a village

City's hole. And a village
Is a barren and a pillage.
Seek within a hermit’s lair,
If your Mind is bruised but fair.



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



Decay

The Poetry "sickness" fades away,
And yearning turns to bleak decay.
This "normal life" — or so it's named —
Is but the snare of order tamed.



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



Lying Madhouse

Trash on screen, it’s pure deception,
Lies so vile, my ears take flight,
Media’s stench—no redemption,
Like a madhouse day and night.



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



The Global Corral

To perish, to vanish
In fear and false treason.
The sheeps bear the savage,
Their minds plagued with poison.

Through the brain — a vile flood,
A foul stench left to linger.
The herd writhes in the mud,
Dragged down by its wringers.



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



Freedom of speech is the foundation
Of the world’s illusions—where is it now?
Once more, we face the chains of deception,
And with them, we've fallen to the depths somehow.



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



The Herds

I believe! Though little knowing—
Facts mean naught to herds below.
To the barking, snarling, crowing
Dogs, they yield and blindly go.

Herds are tightened, penned in places,
Marked for slaughter, bound to fail.
Faith persists, as time erases—
Sheep comply with darkened tales.

“Laws” decree: the shears are needed
For the health of every lamb.
Rotting hay by rain is seeded,
Mud-soaked pastures—who gives damn?

Shepherds, wise, intend no sorrow
For their docile, woolly throng.
Blades are honed, and come the morrow,
Neighbors fall—the weak, the wrong.

And the nearby flocks are trembling—
War returns to claim its due.
Drink your fill, oh beasts assembling:
Blood will flow to sate the few!



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



Work

To be a fool — a heavy chore,
For fools abound, and more, and more.
Idiocy now reigns "supreme",
World Fascism’s ever-growing scheme.

Darkness laid the ancient base,
An idiotic, boundless space.
Let them crush "ideals" anew,
False idols flood the wretched view.

If vile seems trite, worn to the bone,
A fresh grotesque will soon be grown.
Devour neighbors, one by one,
And thus, the path is clearly spun.

Once again, the Overton Window
Widens wide, like open sin.
Laws will follow, signed and sealed,
To make the World a wasteful field.

Fools, decay, vile powers that be,
Mark the world’s identity.
Idiots rise in false elation,
Ever easy for their station.

They’ll gather all, erect anew
A global camp of poisoned hue,
Tripling lies with weary breath,
Leading minds to living death.



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



"Happiness"

Should you chase "happiness" too blindly,
You'll awake one day, unkindly,
Trapped in snares that hold you fast—
Fools are steered by beasts amassed.

They will ride, with sweet deception,
Promising joy and pure perfection.
When the feast divides, there's naught—
Few can grasp what's truly wrought.

Since our childhood, minds are tainted:
"World is bright and fine," it's painted.
Yet, to find that fabled treasure
Amidst misfortunes is the measure.

Woes are crafted, all contrived—
Madmen fail to see they've thrived.
"Happiness" within them lies,
Sharpened stones to test the wise.

For so few will truly mature;
This harsh truth remains obscure.
Look around, stare close and see—
Immaturity's vast sea.



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



Search


The most important thing of life is Search,
Which help you find the way to Home.
The whole life of people is big Research.
It is existence foundation stone.


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


Rashism


What is rashism?
On the turns of degradation
That's ordinary fascism
Along with moronization.


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




Super Trouper

"Super Trouper beams are gonna blind me
But I won't feel blue
Like I always do
'Cause somewhere in the crowd, there's you".
From the song "Super Trouper" by ABBA.


Super trouper blind the trooper -
New Pops Soldier has weakened.
Poor thing fell into the stupor -
Has destroyed the all weekend.



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



Simple Ways to Scare the Fools

The mechanics of panic,
Oh, so plain to see,
Yet the crowd, volcanic,
Cools, then cries, "Agree!"

Few will learn the lessons
Failure dares to teach,
While the rest, in sessions,
Burrow out of reach.

Fate’s a grim arena
For the meek to play—
Frightened, bent, and beaten
Under devils’ sway.



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



No need...

Do not invoke the name of God
For petty woes and hollow schemes.
In seeking Truth, His path is trod,
Not through the trail of stupid dreams.



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



Prisoners of Evil and their slop of substitutions

Filth instead of honor,
False instead of truth.
The creatures bring a horror —
Eat their gruel uncouth!



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



The Hidden World Dictator

Madman vile,
Beastly style:
Fascist order
Spreads like doom.
Patience border
Killed by Gloom.



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




Stump

Moss-clad stump, decayed and old—
The mind of an elder, dull and cold:
Too lazy to ponder. To strive, to care —
Chasing wealth and trinkets rare.



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



Dreams in the midst of the hustle and bustle

Dreams, oh dreams,
Where is your sweetness?
Amidst the toil,
Where fear and weakness,
Where dullness, baseness, lies, and shame,
And the vile traitor sold to fame?



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



A Doomed Little World

Lies are everywhere,
And the vile, unfair,
Is "the norm," they say—
The world's lost its way.



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



"Songs and Dances"

"Songs and dances" on command,
By advice or helping hand,
For the monsters in their masks,
Dancing on the bones grasp.



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



Talent grows in the Soul’s vast domain, not in the genes

Do genes define a gifted mind?
No, talent from a different kind.
Through muses’ breath, the spirit soars,
Far from the world’s mundane shores.

On the edge, where danger calls,
Unbowed beneath deceitful thralls,
Keep your heart untainted, pure—
Return to the Source to endure.

Beyond the Source, all art is vain;
Creation turns to hollow strain.
So cast off lies, embrace what’s true,
And let insight and grace renew.



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



The Problem of Restoring the Mind

Hardy, crazy dolly Daisy
is a mind pliant to Evil.
All in it is very hazy.
The most problem is retrieval.



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



The Decline of Poetry

Freedom from rhyme, to hell with the beat,
Forgetting the meaning, the soul's in deceit.
Deceived by the crowd, now a slave to it all,
The Lyre abandoned, few poets stand tall.
A world of hack writers —  fools' joy, they will thrive.
"What’s Sense for sheeps?" —  to serve Vile and contrive.
And for distraction, petty verse is the deal.
A world in decay, where Reason grows still.




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



In the Dark

A poem drifts through darkness space,
Its crafted lines, a fleeting trace.
Poet, work only for the space alone,
Because most "people" is a stone.



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



Suicide by Absence of Creation

The rhythm's in me, yet I'm in the mire,
Enough of verses, they're not required.
Down in the depths, where hunger stews,
Creation's spark is of no use.

Earn, indulge, kill your brain,
If crumbs of thought still remain.
Don't write—let boredom's noose draw tight,
Snapping the neck in endless night.






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




Stupidity

Ignorance reigns, such a force!
Most are fools, devoid of course.
For the wise, no place to stay —
Silent death awaits their way.



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



Verse Crafting

Swift and sharp, a clear decision,
Hide away? That’s no ambition.
Stillness brings you to decay,
Start to craft your verse today!



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



Total madness

For madness,
No sharp sadness—
It has reached its peak, no doubt!
Feel free to let your curses out!




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



The Malady of Poetry

Composing poetry is akin to an illness, governed by its own laws. One must yield to them, enduring the fever to arrive at a result—not “health,” but a “case history.” For some, it’s a stormy affliction—casting everything into verse; for others, it’s a perpetual self-assessment: “Do I have something new to say?” There are countless variations. The key is to heed intuition, as this “illness” depends on it—unless you’re a hack. Many athletes, in maturity, regard their sports careers as a kind of ailment but still take pride in their “case history.” Poetry is a super-sport, with far finer gradations of mastery than ordinary athletics.


A fever’s blazing heat—
And verses start to flow.
With burning eyes, they greet
The world. Fools never know

How craftless scribes will cater
To win their shallow praise:
The more the lines seem later,
The louder is the craze.

A simpleton might linger,
Entranced, yet blind to grace.
An artist lifts his finger
And laughs at their embrace.

Trust only intuition;
It guides with steady hand.
Ignore all old tradition—
It helps you understand.

Your “history of illness”
A future soul may find.
But if you seek vain stillness,
Your worth is left behind.



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



To the Light

Hour by hour, Evil grows harsher
For the our Spirit in marcher.
Cretinism spreads, a darkened schism—
And so all around, we see fascism.



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



Swine Paradise

Party. Fun. A wild delight.
Boredom gnaws through every night—
Vodka, music, endless play,
Just a dried-up cake of clay:
Thoughts have crumbled, soaked in booze,
Moldy crusts my mind did choose.
Dreamt I woke in heaven’s glow—
But a swine's dumb face did show.
Only fools and gluttons gain
"Heaven’s gates" through gluttony’s reign:
Eat, indulge, and take your fill,
Grab it all—consume at will!



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



Transnistria

The world’s far end:
Cold, forlorn, no friend.
A ruthless rule, its fury old,
A tyranny of iron mold.



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



Deceptions and fake countries

The wheel of lies with evil's core,
Its axis forged in Titan lore,
Keeps spinning, seeking victims new,
For the _Goat of All World to chew.

These _CREATURES reign through ancient lies,
Their venom taints both weak and wise.
Fake diseases grips the feeble mind,
While banners wave for wars designed.

"Different" "countries" clash and fight,
Their colors blaze to blind the sight.
And we deserve this fate we see—
Dull stumps, a vast majority.



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



Mass "culture", or King of the Heap

Entertainments is disgrace,
If it mind and soul erase.
Fool takes pride his filthy place—
King of Garbage Heap, he "reigns".



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



Ashes of a Shameful World

The candle burns,
For light is gone.
A mind that churns
Writes ramblings on.

And yet, you see,
It's nothing new:
The void will spree
To weave its crew.

Such is this world—
From lie to lie,
Where tyrants curled
Are glorified.

To leave a mark
In verse or deed—
This lights the dark,
Our only creed.

Shame's ashes flare,
This base abyss—
A gateway where
Damnation twists.







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



Inhumans

Do I live here, or just decay,
With fear and lies to cloud the day?
The "government"... — I curse, berate,
Without knowing: inhumans shaped our Fate.

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

Our Horned Father

If you've trudged through life's cruel school,
Bowed to power, played the fool,
Scared and blind, in lies you wallow,
Trading soul for dreams so hollow.
Signed by beasts, your mind betrayed,
A witless pawn, no price too great.
For such "scholars," meek and broken,
Satan reigns—the god they've chosen.
Call him "Father," praise his glow,
Blindly cheering a false light's show.

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

"Marines"

What is an automatic gun?
A sender of bullets, swift and grim?
A servant of Evil, a deadly one,
Listening to what CREATURES spin?

Believing lies, obeying commands,
A soulless machine of ruthless design—
Through poisoned minds, by unseen hands,
They corrupt humanity, line by line.

The stronger the CREATURES' hold grows,
The more of these machines arise—
Now, as the tide of darkness flows,
"Marines" are legions in disguise.

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

The Land under Evil

Fools believe they're something greater,
Than feedstock for insane "creator".
If all fools will fall  in Evil hand,
Cretinism grips all Unhappy Land.



Video of the songs performed: https://youtu.be/4vhFsMN9zp0