96 poems

“Cunning”… Cretinism

"Affairs grow worse; the power grows dull before our eyes..."
— Vladimir Vernadsky


Affairs grow worse. The rulers rot,
Grow stupid — blatant, undisguised.
The petty crowd won’t dare to spot
The truth: their homeland pulverized.

Overrun by crawling beasts —
A legion bought and proudly sold.
Culture’s dumped in sewered feasts;
In science — loudmouths bought with gold,

Who serve each order, nod for grants
From wretched hands that feed the lie;
They’ll back contagions, frauds, mischants —
In sycophancy giants they.

The priests grow fat — a fresh advance
Of Evil Nonsense, thick and sly.
The mind still shackled in a trance,
Herded where the donkeys ply.

Call pseudo-life its proper name —
The Donkey Road, the braying track.
But truth today is out of frame:
You won’t live “happily” with that.

Clear Mind has suffered through all years —
In history it’s common ground.
True spirit, rising past false fears
And counterfeit beliefs unbound,

Is fenced away. A zealot reigns
Insane — though hidden from the sight;
In “power” — lackeys pull the chains,
While filth displays its senile might.

The fools have turned to cattle now —
Vernadsky would be stunned and pale.
The “elite” beasts sank low somehow —
From that abyss spills all the rot and gale.

The lawless core: the Stench commands;
Priests nod, and science stamps “Approved.”
Barriers built by hidden hands,
Disasters staged and neatly proved.

Pseudo-life — a ruthless game:
Discard what blocks your dark ascent.
Reason hinders in that frame;
With honor — you are quickly spent.

So gut yourself of all that’s best,
And you’ll outrun the crawling pack;
Among the sellouts stand confessed —
And herds will cheer your lying track.

Affairs grow worse — not growing dumb:
The bottom’s smashed, there’s nothing lower.
In thickening dark an Idea drums:
One digital camp for all — and faster.

In frantic rush they dropped the code,
Forgot the cipher in the heat —
Oppression thickened on the road,
The pressure turned from sly to brute.

If darkness gathers, dense and grim,
Then dawn can only come as shock:
A cataclysm — fierce and grim —
Will sweep this raving, cunning flock

Where “smart” means sly, corrupt, obscene —
And cretinism reigns as clean.



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When “smart” means sly and rot means rule,
When herds applaud the bought and cruel —
Only a quake can clear the stage:
Dawn breaks through cataclysmic rage.



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Stasi Snitches — A Grim Fairytale Prelude

Half a million snitches bred.
World’s pure SHIT — you’re left for dead.
Belong to none? Then count it grace:
Evil seeps in soft, apace.

Through “culture,” “ideas,” dressed in light —
Few keep Reason clean in night,
Serving Soul alone, untorn,
Spitting out temptations born

Of half-truth’s filthy, creeping flood
That snaps the spine and drinks the blood —
Blink — and you are serving something,
Bent to some obedient humming.

Servile vermin showed their core —
Vile and rotten to the core.
Global chaos waits its cue,
Darkness breeding something new.

Half a million snitches’ tale
Soon becomes a nursery wail.
Digital Koschei the Grim
Builds a Camp on every limb,

With a “radiant” sign unfurled
For his brave new wired world.
In that Camp — just like a tale,
Only horror will prevail.

All by order, all by rule;
Disobey? Disconnect the fool
From the system’s glowing vein —
Choice is simple: bow or pain.

Mine the numbers. Prove your worth.
More absurdity gives birth.
Further on — it worsens faster:
Genre norm — decline and disaster.

See the world degrade in sight,
Marching vast toward the new Night.
Drop the lie inside your chest;
Fight through craft — create your protest.

Seek the Light within — you’ll find;
Drag yourself from Darkness’ grind,
Paralyzed in fear’s disease.

Legions thick of filth and spies.
If the Light in you is wise —
Owned by none, and fearing none,
You’ve expelled both Lie and Gun.



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Half a million whisper “Obey.”
Darkness smiles — it’s here to stay.
Find the Light — or join the Camp.
Choice is short. The night is damp.



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Solitude

"For one, solitude is the flight of the sick;
for another — the flight from the sick."
— Friedrich Nietzsche


For the sick who flee the mad,
There’s a cure — few aren’t unhinged.
World’s a shabby ward gone bad,
Reason strapped and conscience singed.

If to scum you seem a friend,
They’ll distract you with applause;
Idiots lie without an end —
Falsehood is the global cause.

Mirrored worlds of fake divide,
Dual traps in staged “conflict”;
All are drained on either side —
Fighting smoke with zealot’s script.

Fool “battles evil” loud and long —
Only rams another fool,
Different flavor, same old wrong,
Butchered by the selfsame rule.

Sweep one nonsense from the street —
Fresh deception takes its place;
Shift the slogans, change the beat —
Still the Camp expands its space.

Global Camp under design —
Every system cracks and falls.
Every cretin swears he’s “fine,”
“Real men” marching into walls.

Women chase their packaged bliss,
Breed new fools with careful art;
Schooling fear with every kiss,
Training madness from the start.

Media pumps the fear up tight —
Grand performance, flawless show.
Even “best” souls lose the fight,
Windmill wars that bleed them slow.

Solitude — a saving space.
There, for once, you do not bend.
Stay there long — the borrowed “grace,”
Sense of duty, starts to end.

Then within yourself you’ll find
Answers no mirage can give;
Step aside from scripted mind —
Through the Inner Light you live.



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The world’s a ward. The crowds are ill.
They call it duty — break your will.
Step back. Go inward. Cut the cord.
Find Light — and need no outer lord.



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Soak the Pants of God

Piss — don’t bleat,
Don’t bow in deceit.
Punish? Who cares!
Horned fraud in prayers.

Through boredom and fear
They hammered it clear —
The dust of decrees,
Of crippled beliefs;
Mind and Soul rot
From faith’s crawling blot —
That’s how it goes
For most of those.

Their beggar-gods leak
Filth down every cheek.
Fools buy the hype,
Fall hard for the “paradise” type.

Crushed under sin,
They wither within;
No urge left to build
Or search and rebuild,
No hunger to see
And shatter the lie free.

Total deceit —
But touch not “the Lord”:
The idiots bleat,
Their petty world’s sword
Will drag you below
Through shame and through woe.

And “science” the same —
Another foul game:
For sale are its priests,
With data-feasts.
A new faith installed,
New dogmas enthralled,
More rigid, more loud,
Conversion unbowed.

Its vengeance is worse:
If death — then the curse
Of nothing at all,
Just worms at the wall.

Such madness deserves
Sharp sarcasm, not nerves
Spent studying lies
That poison the eyes.

They smother the drive
To look deep inside;
Again priests will “save,”
And scholars enslave,
Will feed you and spike
The dose that you like.

The toxin of Lie
Burns slower — won’t die —
Far worse than GMO grain.
Rot everywhere reigns:

In “culture” so small,
In skin-deep survival of all —
A sewer of pride.
Hell wide.

One God remains, if any is good:
Shame — standing where others once stood.



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Faith drips filth.
Science sells myth.
Lie is the creed of the age.
One god survives — Shame in a cage.



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Templates and Routes of Evil for the Gullible Ass

The loss of radiance tears
The Heart at its seam,
Yet nonsense repairs
It cheap with a dream.

No need to reflect —
Just study collapse;
Count troubles direct,
Compile your mishaps.

Such work suits the small
Who’ve buried their flame.
Few seek God at all
When rupture and pain

Explode at the crest.
These lovers of paradox-light
Find inward their quest
Without coke or vodka at night,

No scriptures, no gurus,
No dogma to chew,
No moldy verbosity
Masquerading as “true.”

That rot feeds on Spirit,
Steals focus and sight,
Corrupting the mind
In the name of the “right.”

The humble is right
Who searches within,
Ignoring the template,
Refusing its grin.

Seek only the Source.
Your compass is there.
You’re a traveler through Night
In search of a flare.

Cry out in the desert —
No guide will appear;
So long it has been,
And still it is here:
Few dare to advance

Without evil’s mapped lanes,
Not turning back once
To its well-trodden chains,
Not lured once again
By the Donkey’s broad road,

Which ends in a darkness
More heavy than before.
The ass, worn and hollow,
Returns to the herd,
His fervor all swallowed,
His clarity blurred.

Like the First Fallen proud,
He tramples the Mind,
Boasting aloud
Of the blindness he’s signed.

Templates and routes —
The shackles of thought.
Rupture and surge —
Breakthrough to the Source sought.



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Break from the template.
Burn through the chart.
Rupture the pattern —
Return to the Heart.



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“Heavenly Manna”

“Heavenly manna” —
If, truth be told,
You rot in nonsense,
Grow tame and cold,

After death waiting:
“Believe the heresies,
Humble your forces,
Shrink your energies

For Judgment Day.”
The quick — to Hell.
The sly — to Heaven.
Nice story to sell.

“God’s faithful slave,”
Thought feeble and small,
Atman in heels,
Life bitter gall,

Greedy for promises,
First they alarm,
Then they console —
Same binding charm.

Fools play along,
Spirit grows thin.
“Poor in spirit” —
Conditioned to win

Chains in their thinking,
Servility bred;
Planted in children,
Gladly misled.

“Serving God” where
Decay is the rule —
Entropy dressed
As sacred and cool.

Harsh are the years:
Nonsense extreme.
World lost in falsehood,
Truth like a dream.

Slavery lodged
Deep in “the mind,”
World led to slaughter,
Docile and blind.

Cataclysm waits.
For cretin belief,
For fascist delusion,
For sanctified grief —

Hell sweeps it clean.
“Hi, servile herd!”
Greets the “Creator” —
Spell-casting lord —

In New Hell reborn,
Old madness refined;
Calibrated nonsense
Extinguishing Mind.

Cycle of Evil renewed once again:
Fool into donkey —
Corruption’s high plane.



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Manna for slaves.
Chains for the “pure.”
Entropy posing
As Heaven secure.

Break the illusion —
Stand, even alone.
Light is within you.
No throne needs a throne.



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Cycles of Sowing

Arrogance — joy.
Lies — mainstream noise.
Fear and submission
For the rest — no choice.

“Elite” and “the people” —
In sum, one crowd:
A pyramid built
For fools, thinking loud.

Fraud is the base,
Rot is the ground;
Insight is scarce
Where Evil is crowned.

Cunning Dark reigns,
Infernal domains
Hold sway — till the quake
Breaks cycle and chains.

Game of the age:
Dull every mind,
Strip Soul away,
Leave will behind.

Half-demons made
Out of blind slaves;
So many mind-chains —
No whip needed, no waves.

Just heaps of lies,
A carrot held high:
“All for your good,”
The sloganized cry.

The glowing screen leads
To the New Camp gate;
The idiot falls
Before demonhood’s state.

But when Cataclysm ignites its storm,
Darkness cannot withstand the dawn —
Light is its death.

The Sun burns brighter;
Evil grows bolder;
“People” grow duller,
Change ripens faster.

The cycle will close.
New seeds will be sown —
Those who bleat less
In fear will be grown.



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Lies are the ladder.
Fear is the glue.
Dark builds the pyramid —
Light breaks it through.

Cycles will finish.
Seeds will be cast:
Not those who tremble —
Those who stand fast.



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NOT…

Petty creeps and brainless drones,
Traitors marching in platoons;
NOT freaks rare and overthrown —
Blank-faced masks in endless rows.

Few exceptions try to stand,
Clumsy sparks within the Night.
Media “masters” shape the land —
Bleating heads in borrowed fright.

Lone one searches yet again
For a glint of NOT-a-lie,
Hoping, mid the clash of men,
Living faces might reply.

All in vain — some stump appears
With clockwork, nightmare regularity;
Nonsense floods beyond all tiers,
World obscene in vulgar clarity.

Creation — lot of very few —
Under hype and censorship
Finds no NOT-the-vile-and-true;
Write “for drawer” — let sarcasm rip.

Fear and senile madness squeeze
Till the circus shows its core:
Evil’s fairground, foul disease,
Absurdity in overflow.

Filth exposed the level plain:
ABSURD scaled beyond the gauge.
Total Lie — a spreading stain;
Generations lost in stage

Props and double-bottom schemes,
Genocidal coded plan:
Seek for God, for Light it seems —
While smeared in sludge is every man.

That’s phase one. Phase two won’t start.
New “goals” set by tyrant’s hand:
Another “heaven” sold as art,
Another promised wonderland.

Petty creeps and brainless drones,
Traitors marching in cohorts;
NOT freaks scarce and skin-and-bones —
Everywhere erased-faced hordes.

Grasp the picture. Turn within.
Seek the Light — it’s not outside.
Out there — cretins thick as sin,
Fear and Delirium unified.



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Faces blank. The herd obeys.
Lie is norm and Fear is praise.
Seek NOT outside — turn within:
Light begins where crowds don’t win.



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A Pack of Hounds and Hell’s Manufactured Plagues

"Difficulties are like dogs:
they bite only those who aren’t used to them."
— Antisthenes


A pack of hounds. The world’s grown tame,
It’s trained its tongue to soften blame,
Euphemizing warped disgrace —
Infernal stench in polite phrase.

Not a dog — Cerberus bred
At the gates where reason’s dead.
Fools dive gladly into heresy,
Calling bondage “destiny.”

They hunt for “happiness” in fright,
Where plagues are staged and fear is rite;
The dogs are tools — to keep control,
To gnaw the nerve, to tax the soul.

And plagues don’t rise by chance alone —
Hell’s other beasts uphold the throne;
Yet still the lunatic believes
In “freedom” sold on painted leaves.

That myth of freedom suits the deformed —
Darkness keeps the slogan warmed;
Mind dethroned without a sound
While cheers of “normal” float around.

“The crowd” declares: “All’s fine. Proceed.”
So falls the Mind — and none take heed.



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Cerberus smiles.
They call him a pet.
Freedom’s a slogan
They’ve not tested yet.

Plagues don’t appear —
They’re crafted with care.
The herd says: “It’s normal.”
Hell’s already there.



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Even Old Hags Slip

Among the “pious” — no true Seekers;
Among “idealists” — sly double-dealers,
Or skin-deep scum with polished tone.
In pseudo-science greed has grown —

Few hunt Truth with naked sight.
Propaganda sprays its blight;
No investigations, nothing real
To claim with pride — the circuits kneel.

All drained out in this shabby sphere,
Quick to swallow a villain’s lure.
Fake culture, counterfeit art
Pleasure fools and dull the heart.

Stupor trending, mind made dim,
Masks and makeup, painted grin.
The world — an aging, frantic crone
Rouging cheeks on crumbling bone.

Her fatal flaw? Corruption sold.
“Importance” hides the rot of old:
Spit at random — you’ll expose
A lion’s mask on a louse that crows.

A handful only break the mold
In generations bought and sold;
Statistical mistakes, they seem,
While beasts degrade the final gleam —

Mind assaulted, Spirit torn;
Soulless fools as “norm” are sworn.
Yet one miscalculation stands:
Drive out Spirit — ash in hands.

Entropy will claim the stage;
Doomed the stunted, servile age.
Cataclysm nears its swing
To sweep away this cretin-thing —

The filth it feeds, the rot it breeds;
The torture masked as “life” recedes.

Those few exceptions — salt refined
From generations sold and blind —
Will cross to Other Spheres afar,
Beyond the bounds of Lucifer’s star.

The rest — to New Hell, puzzled, numb.
Till then they snack, dream, drift, succumb,
Still chasing “happiness” for fun —
What can be done? What can be done?



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




Masks on lions. Lice beneath.
Greed as creed. Entropy’s wreath.
Drive out Spirit — worlds decay.
Few rise higher. Most fall prey.



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AI

If Mind is gone,
Artificial can arise.
Brief success will come along —
To sum up earthly lies.



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




No Mind —
AI may bloom.
Short wins —
Earth’s doom.



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Spiritual Spheres and Lucifer’s World

The wretched god — the crowd must not touch!
Don’t topple foundations — punishment is harsh.
Fear is allowed, and reverence too,
For putrid heresy — bow and lie.

A shabby world is built on fear.
Survival hoarded — keeps you near
A chance to last. Faith piled high
Promises life beyond the sky. Chimera lie.

They hide the fact: through fear, survival,
Sheep are sent by Evil for the slaughter;
From Spirit and Mind in darkness comes
Deliverance — decay over generations.

The flow is steady, for troubles are contrived,
And lies, and poverty, shape the world alive,
Where glimpses of Insight and Other Meaning
Are almost impossible to be gleaned.

Spirit exists, yet does not rule — it lights the way.
If Mind is not under Spirit, then it strays:
Fear and deceit lead into gaps,
Where darkness fills all subtle maps.

The soul’s fine strings are torn — no link to Light:
Mind’s space is cluttered with delirium and blight,
But unnoticed, for the “normal” tag
Covers absurdities, chaos drags.

Infernal grip clenches the world dead-tight,
The foolish realm collapses in fright.
Mind in terror, defenses a sham,
“I’m fine,” it says, detached from the jam.

When this repeats through generations long,
The peak of stupor emerges strong.
Spiritual essence in Mind’s suit enclosed,
In the cocoon of the world — filth exposed:

Wretched gods, Satan’s counterfeit —
Here you stand. Look boldly at the pit.
Search and fight. Wake from delirium’s haze —
The first condition for movement to Light.

In darkness, the herd cannot be saved:
Spirit and Reason — doomed; Evil’s patience enslaves.
Spiritual Spheres: law — singularity.
Lucifer’s World: cycles of lies and fear’s gravity.

Be chosen: some will reach the Light.
Insight and critical thought — wings of flight.



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Filth and lies hold sway,
Mind enslaved by fear.
Spirit lights the way,
Few will rise clear.



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Big Bastards

A grab, a lunge,
For power and bliss.
Misfortune hits fools,
We worship Prock like this.

The more we snatch —
Protection comes fast;
Only the small fry get terms.
The rest lick the ruler’s ass,

Then lie and cheat,
Drag down, block the feat.
Great joy is had
In dividing the loot:

The big trough
Belongs to the elite.
Many fell in the chase;
It’s all about profit and pace —

Share a slice,
Ascend in vice.
Bastards — no joke:
Elite class, world broke.



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




Grab, snatch, lie, ascend,
Fools get struck — we defend.
Elite feast at the trough,
World of bastards — enough.



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At One’s Own Wake

"Who, do you think, is this mighty old man?"
— The Twelve Chairs


A mighty old man
Used to the rot:
It seeped through
Flesh and bone.

And anger — residue
In the heart remains.
Life’s stupid template
Covers, while Spirit
Drives out the living —
Zombies at the wake.



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Old man, soaked in rot,
Anger stuck in the heart.
Life’s pattern kills the spark —
Spirit drives the living apart.



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Goblin March and the Path to Spirit’s Peak

Goblin march:
Lies, fear, and war.
Be yourself —
Skirt around
All the filth,
Tripping over rot,
Trying to keep
A shard of Soul
Amid the stench
Of nonsense, total foulness —
A vile, infernal world.

You cannot save all —
If you can’t endure
The lies within:
They’re rampant —
In darkness, Soul nearly lost.
Stumble — rise,
Assess your mistake.
Few will endure —
The path is foul
To the Foot of the Peak.
Beyond, it grows harder.

Your goal — the Heights of Spirit.
Goblin march — to dung flies:
A mimic flight
For Evil’s obedient fools!
Lies — the base of pretense,
Spirit and Mind stagnate.
Be too honest — face castration
Among false “information.”

Compass — the Light within:
A likeness everywhere;
To nonsense — narrow minds.
Goblin march:
Lies, fear, and war.
Be yourself:
Fight the filth!
Light — inside:
See the Peak
Through it,
Fearless,
Striving upward!

Fail —
And you vanish
For nothing:
In the Dark, you are a louse…



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Lies, fear, war —
Goblin march.
Keep your Soul,
Fight the stench,
See the Peak,
Fearless rise.
Fail — vanish:
Darkness, louse.



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Global Decadence

Expecting success,
Fame — coins and crowns —
If you’re a clown for pastime
Among the blind fools in the Dark.

In futile striving,
To outmatch Madness and Nonsense
Of the world. Every hour
Legions of fragile Souls are crushed.

By the flurry of crap
Of all kinds — battle-ready,
With a second bottom, glazed with “new,”
There are far too many of them.

The second bottom drags —
Lead-heavy Satanism there.
Stupidity arrives —
The goal of the mainstream. Idiocy —

A commonplace, a norm:
No comparisons exist,
We swallow, by Infernal Chasm,
A mad world, unresisting,

At any time, in any age.
The Creatures of Hell, with skill,
Lowered it below the Depth
In days of filth, completing

The Solitaire of Evil with war.
Few chances remain to become
Yourself again, where the Dark
Forms its unholy alliance.

From childhood, they prepare
A vile marriage through greed.
The wretched are just instruments,
Food amid the heap of lies.

It’s hidden — all is “normal,”
The universal motto of Evil.
Infernal grip tightens —
Everything accelerates downward.

“Roof,” conscience, honor, the Foundations
Of the universe — replaced.
Chains are all in minds:
Stupid stumps, blind and base.

They believe again in any Nonsense,
But not those who carry the Light:
Anything can be “justified” —
To oppress the herd more harshly.

It moves fast — won’t reach its goal:
Cataclysm will stop the world,
Madder every moment,
Bowed to fascism in the Dark.

Movement will become impossible.
The Peak of possibilities — flight
Into the Spheres of Spirit, near-impossible:
Almost every soul — an idiot…

If not to success — to Light —
You strive, a tiny chance
Remains to grow wise. Shout to Madness:
“No!!!” — and Decadence retreats.



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Madness rules, lies fly,
Souls crushed, the world awry.
Chains in minds, Darkness feeds,
Shout “No!” — break Decadence’ seeds.



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Writes—or Not: Fortune on a Withered Daisy

No one writes to the Colonel…
Today the poet’s life is much quieter.
They don’t write — nonsense! If unread,
The creator’s resolve is diminished.

If weak in Spirit, careless,
He cannot write. A fool, addicted
To plain absurdity, always.
Into the Hall of Vain Labor

The poet will go. In the Dark, the idiot
Calls futile what has not bowed
To NOTHING UNIVERSAL. It thrives
In the mainstream.

The poet, if perceptive, pierces
Through to Other Spheres. They reflect
In verses. Their glimmer may
Be recognized by the few awake.

Sheep in the Murk imagine
A “free world,” its “carrots”
Not bait, but mere novelties,
Marks of “progress” — not recastings
Into NOTHING. Everywhere a hymn to skill:

Strive for “success,” for gold, for “happiness,”
Through… man-made disasters.
Example of this false disease —
Junk is healthier than a bit of wisdom.

In the World’s Pen, this is death
To any striving to leave the Depths —
“Upwards” is only huge shit.
If you reflect the Discord in verse,

They won’t accept it — Fear pushes it out.
Allah taught humility —
Horned Devil reigns in the “heavens” —
So, if unbowed, your labor in the Pen is devalued.

Worst of all, if the poet does not write
With TNT, he searches for niches
To wedge himself, to shut up,
Or erupt in diarrhea of words —
In step with the Earthly Vale,
Forgetting Honor, forgetting the Will.



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Blast the Verse

Write—or rot! The fool devours
Absurdity, blind in every hour.
Spirit weak, the world laughs loud,
Bow to NOTHING, choke in the crowd!
Pierce the Dark, strike through the fear!



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TNT Words

Fools devour, the Dark consumes,
Verse dies where cowardice looms.
Nothing reigns, the Spirit’s chained,
Strike the Void — let courage be unfeigned!



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Blast & Strike

Write—or rot! The fool devours,
Absurdity blinds in endless hours.
Spirit weak, the world laughs loud,
Bow to NOTHING, choke in the crowd!

Fools consume, the Dark expands,
Verse dies where cowardice stands.
Nothing reigns, the Spirit’s chained,
Strike the Void — let courage be unfeigned!



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War Cry of the Poet

Write—or rot!
Fools devour!
Dark consumes!
Absurdity blinds!

Spirit weak!
World laughs loud!
Bow to NOTHING!
Choke in the crowd!

Verse dies!
Cowards stand!
Strike the Void!
Courage unchained!



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



Poet’s Strike

Write—or rot!
Fools devour!
Dark consumes!
Bow to NOTHING!

Spirit chained!
Verse dies!
Strike the Void!
Courage unbound!



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Blast Cry

Write—or rot!
Dark devours!
Strike the Void!
Courage unbound!



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Weekend

On Saturday, I’ll skip the grind,
And drink my fill, leave cares behind.
What does a fool need, really, to
Survive the week without a screw?

A little cash — that’s all it takes,
Earned from the futile work one makes.
Faith in God? Ha! The priests will lie,
Fooling the dumb as hours go by.

The zombie box fits just as well —
Lies louder, scarier, you can tell.
Hell’s wide open, black and vast,
Few souls remain — the rest are cast.

So drink, forget the weekend’s woe,
And let the current blindly flow.
Come Monday, like the rest you’ll drift,
Except the rare few spirits lift.

They skip the grind, stay out of line,
While fools and freaks still roam and pine.
Mixing filth, then sell it sweet,
At Hell’s deep pit, sobriety’s seat.

Friday’s here — the weekend calls!
Monday’s far, the madness sprawls.
Serve Evil? That’s the daily chore,
Fools struggle, dragging spirit’s store.

Kill what’s left of mind and heart,
Don’t be a sellout, play your part.
Memes and traps may lodge your brain,
Even if you’re broke — watch the game!

Better pour some ale instead,
Half-dogs defeated, spirits fed.
On Saturday, I’ll skip the grind,
And drink my fill, leave cares behind.

Much does a fool require to last
And reach at last Baal’s gaping past?



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



Weekend Strike

Saturday — I skip the grind,
Drink my fill, leave fools behind.
Hell awaits the weak and lost,
I toast my freedom, damn the cost!



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



Weekend Smash

Saturday — I dodge the grind,
Drink deep, leave fools behind.
Clowns and priests lie loud and fast,
Hell swallows weaklings, none will last.

TV, memes, the idiot's snare,
Ad flows thick, the soul laid bare.
Monday looms, a slave again,
But now I drown the world in ale’s domain.

Work? Forget it — dogs run free,
Stinking at the bottom of the sea.
I raise my mug, defy the pack,
Spirit intact — I’m not held back.

Saturday — my battle won,
Drink, curse, and mock the sun.
Fools may toil, their minds all lost,
I laugh at Baal, damn the cost.



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



Weekend Roar

Saturday — I dodge the grind,
Drink deep, leave all fools behind.
Spirit intact, the dogs may slave,
I mock their hell — I rise, I rave!



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



Weekend Strike

Drown the fools, drink deep, defy,
Hell’s dogs may toil — I’ll never die.



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



Weekend Fury

Fuck the grind — I drink, I fly!
Dogs of hell — your chains, not I.



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



Weekend Shout

Dogs toil, fools bow — I drink, I laugh, I rise!



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



Weekend Blast

Drink. Defy.



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




Fools’ Hell — Drink!

Chains Break — Laugh!

Baal’s Bite — Rise!



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




Drink, Defy! — Weekend Roar.

Baal Awaits! — Fools Sink.

El Pour! — Madness Rules.

Break Chains! — Mock Fear.

Hell Laughs! — Spirits Rise.



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




Fools Burn! — Rise!

Baal’s Maw! — Drink!

Chains Snap! — Laugh!

Madness Rules! — Fly!

El Flow! — Defy!

Weekend Riot! — Rebel!

Hell Grins! — Fight!

Spirits Strike! — Break!

Sins Pour! — Mock!

Dark Howls! — Live!

Stupid Die! — Roar!

Shadows Feast! — Bite!

Folly Falls! — Rise!

Bile Flows! — Smite!

Chaos Cheers! — Run!



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



Weekend Strike!

Work be damned — drink deep,
Fools swim to Baal’s maw, while spirits leap!



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




1.
Saturday’s mine — booze, not grind,
Fools drift in Baal’s tide, unkind!

2.
Skip the job, drown the dread,
Idiots feast while spirits bled.

3.
Work can wait — gulp and roar,
Half-dogs conquered, fools hit the floor!

4.
Weekend strikes, the chains unbind,
To Baal’s maw, the blind shall wind!



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



Weekend Strike

Saturday — I wreck, I roar,
Half-dogs crushed, fools hit the floor!
Baal awaits, the blind shall bleed,
Spirit’s chains broken, time to feed!



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



Roar of Saturday

Saturday — I drink, I smash,
Fools and half-dogs meet the crash!
Baal’s jaws open wide to take,
Spirit and mind, no more to fake.



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



Weekend Fury

Hit the bar, drown the weak,
No mercy left, the damned shall squeak.
Fools afloat in Baal’s maw,
Chains of soul ripped raw and raw.



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



Drunken Rebellion

Saturday — revolt, defy,
Half-wits stumble, spirits fly.
Baal grins at our parade,
Madness drunk, but not afraid.



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



Weekend Strike

Saturday — I drink, I roar,
Fools drown fast, Baal opens his jaw.
Spirit crushed? Too late — I soar!



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




1.
Saturday — drown in ale,
Idiot drifts, the world turns pale,
Baal’s maw awaits the frail.

2.
Work can wait — the booze will reign,
Fools collapse, their loss, my gain,
Spirit dies in endless pain.

3.
Weekend fire, brain undone,
Baal laughs — the fool’s been spun,
Flow with darkness, none to shun.



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




1.
Saturday’s blood, drown the fool,
Spirit crushed beneath the rule,
Baal waits — the abyss is full.

2.
Drink! Forget! The weak shall rot,
Idiot swarms in hellish plot,
Flow with fear — resist it not!

3.
Weekend fire, smash the mind,
Clowns in chains, the weak confined,
Baal grins — the dark aligned.



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




1.
Saturday — I drown my brain,
Fools beware, you swim in vain.

2.
Booze and lies, the world’s a trap,
Idiot march, no turning back.

3.
Clerics lie, the sheep obey,
Baal grins at fools’ decay.

4.
Work be damned, the weekend reigns,
Spirit crushed, the void remains.

5.
Drink, forget, the dark devours,
Idiot lost in endless hours.



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



Weekend Wreck

Saturday — I skip the grind,
Belly full, I’ll lose my mind.

Clerics lie, the fools obey,
Baal smiles — they rot away.

Cash a little, booze a lot,
Idiot’s dream? Already shot.

TV screams, the lies get fed,
Hell’s alive, the living dead.

Drown the Spirit, crush the Mind,
Weekend’s king, the chains unbind.

Monday waits, the slog resumes,
But now — I feast, the dark consumes!

Ale in hand, the noise, the bite,
Half-dogs howl through endless night.

Idiot swims — the pit is deep,
Baal’s jaws grin, no one sleeps.

Forget the work, forget the pain,
Spirit crushed, but I’ll remain.



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



Weekend Wreck

Saturday — screw the grind,
Drink, slam, lose your mind!
Ale! Ale! Ale! — the fools obey,
Baal grins, the world decays.

Clerics lie, the sheep believe,
Cash and booze, the web they weave.
TV screams, the lies explode,
Hell’s alive — the streets corrode.

Drown the Spirit! Crush the Mind!
Weekend king — chains unbind!
Half-dogs howl, full dogs bite,
Darkness reigns, the end’s in sight.

Monday waits — the slog returns,
But Saturday’s fire still burns!
Ale in hand, chaos, scream,
Dive into the twisted dream.

Idiot swims in pit so deep,
Baal grins — no one sleeps.
Lie, cheat, rot, pretend,
Weekend madness — no end, no end!

Drown the Spirit! Crush the Mind!
Ale! Ale! Ale! — escape confined!
Half-dogs, half-men, howl and tear,
Chaos fest — the night’s affair.



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



Weekend Blast

Saturday — drink, smash, forget!
Baal grins, the fools are set.
Half-dogs howl, spirits drown,
Chaos reigns — the world goes down!



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



Weekend Frenzy

Saturday — smash skulls, drink deep,
Fools drown, half-dogs howl, none sleep.
Baal’s maw yawns, spirits shred,
Chaos eats the living, dead!



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



Weekend Strike

Saturday—drink deep, fools drown,
Chaos laughs, the dogs howl loud,
Baal’s maw opens—swallow proud!



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



Weekend Chaos

Saturday—no work, just drown,
Fools need little to go down.
Cash, a prayer, the priests will lie,
Zombied screens just amplify.

Hell’s wide open, people few,
Flow along, or drown in goo.
Monday comes with grind and strife,
Killing spirit, killing life.

Memes stuck buzzing in your ear,
Hockey, pop, or ale appear.
Half-dogs conquered? Raise your glass,
Flow through chaos—time will pass.

Saturday—no work, drink deep,
Fools rejoice, the Baal-mouth’s heap!



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



Weekend Blitz

Saturday—no work, just drown,
Fools afloat in Baal’s own town.
Half-dogs conquered? Raise your ale,
Chaos rules, and fools prevail!



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



Weekend Roar

Saturday I drown, let fools decay —
Half-dogs conquered, hell at play!



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




Weekend — booze, hell bites, fools drown!



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



Weekend

Saturday — skip work, drink till you roar,
Hell gnaws the fools, but who keeps score?
Prophets lie, TV screams, spirits fight,
Ale in hand — survive the damned night.



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



Weekend Assault

Skip work, drink deep —
Fools choke, Hell creeps.
Priests lie, TV roars,
Ale! Fight through the sores.



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



Weekend Strike

Skip the grind — drink it raw!
Fools drown, Hell laughs.
Ale in hand — spit on work,
Survive the fools’ path.



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



Weekend Blow

Skip the grind, drown in ale —
Fools get lost, Hell prevails.



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



Weekend Rampage

Saturday—fuck work, drink till lost,
Fools drown in Hell, the world’s the cost,
Ale in hand, defy the Frost.



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



Weekend Rampage

Saturday shuns the grind, we drown in ale,
Fools flail in Hell while the strong set sail,
Priests lie, screens blare — the spirit frail.

Money’s scarce, the work’s a joke,
Brains get fried while idiots choke,
Ale flows, reality’s smoke.

Monday looms, the herd still blind,
Half-demons play, the weak confined,
Weekend saved — sanity undermined.



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



Weekend Fury

Saturday — drown the fear,
Fools rot in Hell, the ale is near!
Monday bites — the herd’s still queer.



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



Weekend Blast

Saturday drinks — the fools shall burn,
Monday comes — Hell takes its turn.



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



Weekend Fury

Saturday roars — the half-demons cheer,
Swill the mindless ale, forget the fear,
Monday drags the fools back to Hell’s frontier.



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



Despair

Nurture your sorrow, your despair.
To be content? A faux pas there
In Bedlam, where the wild run free,
Where Spirit and Mind are cast from thee.

You’ll look a fool if joy you chase.
Here thieves and rogues hold more grace
Than suckers selling kids, and worse,
Serving fascists’ vile, cursed curse.

No place for love, for honor, or friends,
In a death camp where life ends
Not with a bang, but slow decay,
Disguised as care along the way.

Nations turned to cattle’s state,
“Servants” shielding those who hate.
False doctors kill in silent glee,
Officials, traitors, thieves — decree.

Gendarmes like dogs, bloodthirsty beasts,
Sadist teachers, twisted feasts.
When you languish in this Hellish plot,
At least take note of what you’ve got.

Pour all your sorrow into super-weaponry —
Strive to forge it, clumsy though it be.
The path belongs to those who fight,
Raise your fists — ignite the Light!

Victory will belong to those who stand,
The Spirit, the Soul, cannot be banned.
You cannot make the walking cattle blind,
Nor crush the Reason of humankind.



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



Despair — Strike!

Forge your sorrow into steel,
The Spirit lives — they cannot steal.
Mind unbroken, rise and fight —
Their Hell will yield to your Light!



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



Despair — Burn!

Turn your anguish into fire,
The Spirit stands — they’ll never tire!



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



Despair into Fury!

Smash the chains, strike through the night,
Spirit and Mind — unbroken, fight!



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




Despair be damned — rise, ignite!
Strike the dark with Mind and Spirit,
Victory will burn, unbroken, bright!



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




Despair? Pathetic! Stab it blind!
The fools rot in Hell, but Spirit strikes —
Mind alive, Dark crushed, we rise!



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




Despair be damned!
Clutch your Spirit, strike the Dark,
Mind ablaze, fools rot below!
Rise! Fight! Nothing bends the brave!



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




Despair—grip it, weaponize!
Strike the Dark, crush the fools,
Spirit and Mind—unbreakable, rise!



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




Despair your grief—forge it into fire!
Strike the Dark, let Spirit not expire!



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




Nurture despair—rage and rise!
The soul survives, the darkness dies.

---

Grief and hopelessness, your blades—
Cut through the lies the tyrants made.

---

Despair fuels the warrior’s hand,
Light survives where shadows stand.



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




Crush despair—tear the tyrants down!
Light survives while fools will drown.

---

Rage! Despair’s your weapon now,
Smash the weak, break the false vow.

---

Hopelessness—your fire, your steel,
Cut the lies that murder, steal.

---

Despair’s the hammer, rage the spark,
Strike the dark, ignite the heart.



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




Despair, let it burn, let it smash,
Tear the tyrants, crush their trash!
Fools may squirm, but we will rise,
Light survives where darkness dies.

---

Grasp your grief, forge it to steel,
Strike the lies, make the false kneel.
Chains of fear will snap and fall,
Victory waits for those who call!

---

Hopelessness, your fire, your sword,
Break the silence, cut the horde!
Souls unchained, minds sharp and free,
Nothing shall bend the will of thee!

---

Rage your despair, let it scream,
Shatter the lies, crush the scheme!
Fools are fodder, darkness rends,
Spirit and Light will never bend.



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




Despair, ignite! Strike the lies!
Light will rise where darkness dies.

---

Grief becomes a weapon!
Smash the fools, break the chains!

---

Hopelessness fuels the strike!
Truth will pierce the false alike.

---

Rage your despair! Crush deceit!
Spirit and Light won’t admit defeat.



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




Despair strikes! Strike! Strike!
Darkness trembles! Strike again! Strike again!
Lies shatter! Strike, strike, strike!
Fools crumble! Strike! Strike! Strike!
Spirit rises! Strike! Strike! Strike!



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




Despair! Despair! Strike the soul!
Joy is a mockery! Strike! Strike!
Fools and thieves reign! Strike again!
Spirit and Mind, driven out! Strike! Strike!
Love? Honor? Friendship? Strike! Strike!
Life is execution! Strike, strike, strike!
They kill slowly, masked as care! Strike! Strike!
Nations turned cattle! Strike! Strike!
False doctors, traitors, thieves! Strike! Strike! Strike!
Sadistic teachers, blood-hungry guards! Strike! Strike!
Though Hell surrounds, report yourself! Strike! Strike!
Turn sorrow into super-weapon! Strike, strike, strike!
Try, stumble, rise again! Strike! Strike! Strike!
Victory is ours! Strike! Strike! Strike!
Light and Soul cannot die! Strike! Strike! Strike!



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




Despair strikes! Lightning shatters the soul!
Joy? Mockery! Fools dance on ruin.
Thieves crawl, and the last scum laughs.
Spirit expelled! Mind crushed! Sparks fly!

Love? Honor? Friendship? Buried alive!
Life? Execution! Chains rattle! Hell swarms!
They kill slowly, veiled in false care.
Nations as cattle! Hooves trample hope!

False doctors whisper death! Betrayers snatch the gold!
Sadistic teachers carve fear into flesh! Guards feast on pain!
In Hell’s furnace, you shiver, powerless, screaming!
But count yourself — a spark survives!

Turn sorrow into super-weapon! Strike, strike, strike!
Forge attempts from ash, clumsy yet fierce!
Step forward! Hit again! Strike through the gloom!
Victory hums in the veins of the brave!

Light endures! Soul refuses decay!
The path is steep, the storm relentless,
Yet the Going cannot be slain! Strike, strike, strike!
Reason rises — unstoppable, blazing, free!



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




Despair!
Strike! Strike! Strike!

Joy?
Mockery! Ruin!

Thieves crawl!
Scum laughs!
Mind crushed!
Spirit expelled!

Love? Gone!
Honor? Dead!
Friendship? Buried!
Chains rattle!

False doctors!
Betrayers snatch!
Sadistic teachers!
Pain feasts!

Hell swarms!
Sparks fly!
You shiver!
Count yourself!

Sorrow ; weapon!
Strike! Strike! Strike!
Forge! Ash! Fierce!

Step! Forward!
Hit! Through gloom!
Victory hums!
Brave blaze!

Light endures!
Soul survives!
Path steep! Storm relentless!
Strike! Strike! Strike!

Reason rises!
Unstoppable!
Blazing! Free!



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




Despair!
Strike!
Crush!

Joy?
Mockery!
Ruin!

Thieves!
Scum!
Laugh!

Mind!
Crushed!
Spirit!
Gone!

Love?
Dead!
Honor?
Buried!
Friendship?
Lost!

Chains!
Rattle!
Pain!
Feast!

False doctors!
Betrayers!
Teachers!
Sadists!

Hell!
Swarm!
Sparks!
Fly!

You!
Shiver!
Count!
Yourself!

Sorrow!
Weapon!
Strike!
Forge!
Ash!
Fierce!

Step!
Forward!
Hit!
Gloom!

Victory!
Hums!
Blaze!
Brave!

Light!
Endures!
Soul!
Survives!

Path!
Steep!
Storm!
Relentless!

Strike! Strike! Strike!
Reason!
Rises!
Unstoppable!
Blazing!
Free!