Independent Thinking
“Humanity—at least the bulk of it—hates independent thought.
Even the mildest call to step outside the beaten path and
judge for oneself is taken as an insult.”
—Helena Blavatsky
To think is hard. To think is fear:
That tidy world may disappear.
No gain awaits the soul that dares—
Just ruin, mockery, and stares.
A docile fool will point and bray:
"Hey look, a clown who lost his way!"
The tyrant’s hand will slap or bind—
For thought is treason, thought is crime.
Decades march the deathward track,
Where thought and spirit rot and crack.
Each dumbed-down age repeats the spell,
And helps pave highways straight to Hell.
The CowID plague made clear as day
How close that Hell now lies away—
Since three of four no longer think,
And gladly march right to the brink.
They serve the lie, obey, comply,
Assist the genocide with pride.
They help erase the final mind,
Turn souls to ashes, blind on blind.
And soulless idiots—far worse
Than Hell—now dominate the Earth.
Their fascist growth is running wild,
The world reduced to filth defiled.
From filth to Hell, one rotten chain—
When Mind and Spirit both are slain.
Wait just a bit... you’ll hear the sound—
The tyrant’s boot is inbound.
---------------------
1.
From filth to fire the nations crawl—
When Mind is dead, the beasts rule all.
2.
They laughed at Thought — and cheered the chain,
Now ash and blood are all that remain.
3.
Obey. Comply. Repeat. Regret.
Your silence signs the death vignette.
4.
No thought — just sludge inside the skull,
And fascists feasting on the dull.
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Milking 24/7 on the Global Farm
We milk the crowd nonstop, nonstop,
Three shifts deep — we never stop.
Through the ages, through the grime —
No sunrise comes. Just shift and time.
The Global Farm needs every drop,
Of loosh and fear — we run the shop.
Our nerves are steel, their minds are thin,
The weak of spirit never win.
We do what we want with the dumb, it's plain.
We smile and lie — they feel no pain.
Pretending care, we hide our track,
While stabbing fools behind their back.
CowID proved what care is worth:
They’ll take all shame upon this Earth.
Obeying all, no ounce of pride —
Just herds of apes with eyes shut wide.
And next comes better, trust us, friend:
A Digital Camp — your mindless end.
No need for tyrants with their fists —
Your thoughts are now the perfect cysts.
But one small wrinkle mars our bliss:
A Cataclysm is near — we hiss.
We’ve milked too long, and now the flood
Of Global Fascism drinks the blood.
What’s next, you ask? Another Hell.
Where demons rise, and loosh will swell.
Not from the sheep. They’re far too sad.
But from one ruthless, final Chad.
---------------------
1.
Obey. Produce. And never ask.
The Farm is real. Remove the mask.
2.
You thought it’s care? It’s just a cage.
Your soul is fuel. Your fear — their wage.
3.
No tyrant’s needed, not today —
The chip inside will make you stay.
4.
You’re milked for fear, not flesh or bone.
And still you kneel. You scroll. You moan.
5.
The Final Hell is almost near —
Where demons drink what’s left of fear.
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False Fleshhood — The Root of All Ruin
They’ve learned to glorify the shell,
To cage the soul in beastly cell —
A fleeting husk, a weak disguise,
Now hailed as truth. How deep the lies!
They blot out Spirit, Pure and Vast,
Replace it with a twitching cast
Of mutants crawling through the dirt —
And call that life, and praise the hurt.
Thus madness breeds in every womb.
This world’s a false and reeking tomb,
Where sacred fire is swapped for meat,
And idiots bow down in heat.
They proved it well — the CowID play:
No rare fools here — just blind decay.
"Reason" is a painted *****
Inside this filthy, stinking store.
They dream of honor in their cage,
While licking boots in cyber-rage.
No dignity — just grunts and chains,
As beasthood floods their rotting brains.
So crush the lie: you are not flesh!
There is no task more vital, fresh.
For only so the soul breaks through —
Or Hell awaits. It waits for you.
---------------------
1.
You are not meat. You are not clay.
Forget that lie — or rot away.
2.
They sold your soul for skin and bone,
And called it “life” — you die alone.
3.
The Body’s not your final shape.
Believe that trash — there’s no escape.
4.
They made you flesh. You knelt and cheered.
Now Hell is close. Exactly as feared.
5.
**** the lie: “You are your skin.”
That’s where the Fall will first begin.
---------------------
Flesh Is the Fraud
Poetic slogans from the War on the Lie
1.
You are not what bleeds and breaks.
You are what the System hates.
2.
They call you “body” — then make you crawl.
Stand as Spirit, or lose it all.
3.
The meat is branded. The soul is chained.
Break the body — or stay detained.
4.
They preach: “You’re flesh. Obey your fate.”
Say “no” — before it’s far too late.
5.
Not skin. Not blood. Not pain. Not bone.
The lie wants less. You are the Whole.
6.
If you're just body, death is king.
But you are fire. A sacred thing.
---------------------
REVOLT AGAINST FLESH™
A Poetic Manifesto for the End of the Lie
“They teach you: ‘You are body — serve the herd.’
But Spirit waits, in one last word.”
I. Introduction: The Lie of the Body
They dressed you in bone,
Then whispered: "Obey."
The cage was called you,
And the guards? — DNA.
They sold you a name,
A number, a frame —
Then took out the fire
And left just the shame.
You walk like a ghost,
Half-eaten by screens,
Half-flesh, half-code,
All trapped in routines.
But this is the War —
And this is the Day.
No more to be meat.
No more to obey.
II. Anti-Fascism of the Soul
Break the Flesh-Obedience. Rise as Spirit.
The Body is the first disguise.
They brand your mind. They cage your skies.
They chipped your skull, then drained your will.
The body bowed — the soul stood still.
The new Fuhrers don’t shout or fight.
They feed you comfort. **** your Light.
The body’s weak. The herd is blind.
But Spirit strikes — beyond the grind.
III. Clay vs Flame
You were never dirt. You were always Fire.
They want you tame, they want you slow —
But Spirit burns. It doesn’t bow.
Your cage is warm. Your chains are soft.
They lull the soul. Then turn it off.
You’re not the clay they shape and sell.
You are the force that cracked their Hell.
To be just flesh is to be lost.
To wake as fire — that is the cost.
IV. Awakening from Flesh
The Final War Begins Inside.
The lie says: “You’re the skin you wear.”
The truth burns louder: “You are air.”
You are not cells. You are not skin.
You are the roar they keep within.
Your body's label: “Citizen.”
Your soul’s rebellion: “Born again.”
To see the fraud, just look inside.
Your fire lives. Their meat has died.
V. Digital Herd
They scanned your skin. Then stole your soul.
The barcode hums. Your flesh is known.
But what you are — is not their own.
They mapped your face, then fed you dreams.
Now Spirit drowns in data streams.
The Grid pretends to give you voice.
But silence was your truer choice.
The Herd is tracked. Obeying still.
But fire breaks what numbers ****.
VI. Flesh-to-Code
They call it progress. You call it chains.
From meat to mesh, from thought to wire —
The soul declines. The lie climbs higher.
They coded flesh. They called it free.
But Spirit knows: that’s blasphemy.
You blink. The chip has tracked your sin.
You speak — and they delete within.
You signed your name in painless ink.
But didn’t feel your Spirit sink.
VII. Spirit Override
No system owns the fire inside.
No screen defines the soul you bear.
You are the glitch they wouldn’t dare.
No signal leads where Light must go.
The path is dark — but you still know.
Override flesh. Reject their plan.
You are not data. You are Man.
If Spirit roars, the Grid must fall.
The fire returns. It burns it all.
VIII. The Unyielding Serpent
The fierce truth that slithers through the lies.
Unbowed, unbent — the Serpent strikes,
It writhes beneath the Flesh’s spikes.
No cage confines its burning scales,
It breaks the locks, it breaks the pales.
The serpent’s hiss is Spirit’s cry,
That shakes the chains, that lights the sky.
The Flesh may bind, the herd may scream —
The Serpent cleaves the darkened dream.
IX. Global Farmyard
Milk the masses, 24/7 grind.
They milk the crowd with endless shifts,
Three changes chained, no dawn, no lifts.
Generations herd the blind,
The sunrise lost — no hope to find.
The World’s Farm breeds stress and lies,
Strong nerves hold where spirit dies.
CowID showed the cruelest score —
Three quarters dumb, the mind no more.
X. False Flesh Identity
The root of all our bitter chains.
They hype the body, sell the shell,
Confuse the soul with earthly hell.
Replacing Spirit with mere clay,
To trap the mind, to lock away.
The fake world’s trap is deep and wide,
Where fools and monsters walk inside.
The worst are not the few who err,
But blind believers who prefer.
XI. The Last Rebellion
The spark that sets the system aflame.
When Spirit wakes, the Flesh will fall,
No cage too tight, no wall too tall.
The code will crack. The lies unbind.
The flame of truth consumes the blind.
The tyrants’ voices lose their breath,
While freedom dances with the death.
The final war is in the mind,
Awake, arise — and break the bind.
END OF MANIFESTO — THE FIRE IS YOU
---------------------
Flesh-Revolt Slogans
You are fire — not just flesh.
Break the cage. Break the code. Break the lie.
Spirit over skin — always.
No chains on the soul. No slaves in the mind.
The herd obeys — the rebel ignites.
Digital grid? Spirit will glitch it.
They branded your body — but not your will.
Milked and broken — rise and burn.
False flesh — false truth. Rebel soul — real proof.
Override the flesh. Ignite the mind.
No data owns your flame.
The serpent of spirit breaks all chains.
Wake up — the war is inside you.
CowID showed the fall — spirit must rise.
Flesh is a lie. Spirit is rebellion.
Flesh dies. Fire endures.
From clay to flame — ignite the revolution.
They want sheep — be the wolf.
End the digital farm. Free the soul.
No more flesh prisons. Only spirit freedom.
The final war is for your mind — fight!
---------------------
Manifest Rebellion
You’re no cattle — you’re a rebel!
Soul’s no hamster in a cage!
Burn the flesh — grab your freedom!
Break the chains, smash the lies!
Power lies — we ignite!
Cows to stalls — we to battle!
No more slaves — only warriors!
Farm world’s hell — break the gates!
Spirit’s not for sale!
System’s filth — we’re the venom!
Cut the chains — into the fire!
No thought — you’re a slave. Think — you’re the enemy!
Mind’s on fire — flesh turns dust!
Digital prisons — enough!
Silence means death!
Freedom’s our only drug!
Not one step back!
Punks don’t quit!
Hit the power — free the soul!
Break the screen — see the truth!
You’re NOT cattle — you’re a ******’ rebel!
Soul ain’t no ******* hamster in a cage!
Burn the ******* flesh — ****** your freedom!
Rip the chains, smash the ******* lies!
Power’s a ******* liar — we light the fire!
Cows to stalls — WE RISE TO BATTLE!
No more slaves — only ******* warriors!
This farm-world’s HELL — BREAK THE ******* GATES!
Spirit ain’t for ******* sale!
System’s **** — we’re the poison in its veins!
Cut the chains — dive into the ******* fire!
No thought? You’re a ******* slave. Think? You’re the ENEMY!
Mind’s on fire — flesh’s just ******* dust!
Digital prisons? **** THAT ****!
Silence means death — **** silence!
Freedom’s our only ******* drug!
Not a ******* step back!
Punks don’t ******* quit!
Smash the power — FREE THE ******* soul!
Break the ******* screen — SEE THE ******* TRUTH!
You ain’t cattle — you’re a straight-up rebel!
Soul ain’t no **** hamster in a cage!
Burn the flesh — grab your **** freedom!
Rip the chains, smash the ******’ lies!
Power’s full of **** — we light the fire!
Cows to stalls — we rise to battle!
No more slaves — just straight-up warriors!
This farm-world’s hell — break those **** gates!
Spirit ain’t for **** sale!
System’s trash — we’re the poison in its veins!
Cut the chains — dive into the **** fire!
No thought? You’re a **** slave. Think? You’re the enemy!
Mind’s on fire — flesh just dust!
Digital prisons? **** that ****!
Silence means death — hell no silence!
Freedom’s our only **** drug!
Not a **** step back!
Punks don’t quit!
Smash the power — free the **** soul!
Break the **** screen — see the **** truth!
---------------------
Rebel’s Cry
You ain’t no cattle, you’re a ******* rebel,
Soul ain’t a hamster locked inside a metal.
Burn that flesh, grab your **** freedom,
Break those chains, no more kingdom.
Power’s *******, we light the fire,
Cows to stalls, we rise up higher.
No more slaves, just warriors wild,
Farm-world hell, but we ain’t mild.
Spirit’s priceless, can’t be sold,
System’s trash, we’re venom cold.
Cut the chains, dive in the flame,
Think or slave? You know the game.
Mind’s on fire, flesh turns dust,
Digital prisons? **** that rust!
Silence kills — we scream and shout,
Freedom’s drug, we’re breaking out.
Not one step back, punks don’t quit,
Smash the power, free the spirit!
Break the screen, see what’s true,
Rebel loud — the fight is you!
---------------------
The Brain Does Not Create Consciousness
“It would be just as absurd to deny consciousness to an animal
Because it has no brain, as to claim it cannot eat
Because it lacks a stomach.”
— Henri Bergson
Consciousness is not in brain,
The brain’s a mere conduit’s frame.
“Mechanism” — a threat disguised,
But people trust it, hypnotized.
Spirit’s beyond all logic’s reach,
Far higher truths no mind can teach.
Knowledge sunk down to the bottom,
The world’s now drowned in shallow *****.
An artificial, twisted play—
The more the madness grows each day,
The tighter creatures press the throng,
The lie of science feeds the wrong.
Darkness breeds a false belief,
Think twice, or belly rules the chief—
That’s how they turn us into cattle,
With shallow minds all bent to battle.
There’s plenty cattle in the world,
CowID’s flag is widely furled.
So start anew—investigate,
Expose this shame before too late.
Shame conquers knowledge, all around,
If you believe “You’re just your ground,”
Then that’s the mark of deepest pit—
The bottom line where souls have quit.
---------------------
False Illnesses and the Madness Pandemic
Just heard about a “plague” —
Some CowID, world’s insane!
Madness spreads like pandemic waves,
And people? Nothing but empty graves.
Forgot that Spirit is the core,
Critical minds are none, just bore.
Thinking for themselves — a wonder rare,
Lost in fog, trapped in despair.
So slime rules all, a spread so wide —
Judas worms, elite’s disguise.
They call their filth “the elite” —
Killing brains, the fools repeat.
This “elite” — just bootlick slaves,
Fools blind to hidden knaves.
Above them lurks a beast concealed,
And at the broken trough, truth’s repealed.
Anyone who sees it clear —
Only beasts hear the fool’s cheer.
Only Cataclysm can cleanse,
Wiping out this satanic pretense.
Spirit’s realm for just a few,
Not bowing down to fascist crew.
And fools? A hell far worse awaits —
Their minds are weak, resigned to fates.
---------------------
To Be or Not to Be?
Forgive, forget, then rot away
In lies and fear — or crush the prey
Of filthy fiends who scheme to keep
Their shame alive while souls still weep?
Soul or skin? That’s the real test.
All other words and postures—jest.
They let the mind run wild, insane,
While Darkness ***** it like a drain.
A flock of fools, the human slime,
Blind slaves of devils all the time,
Repeating tricks that only grow
More cruel and vile as ages flow.
The soul’s death—that’s the true decay.
To call rotten flesh “solid clay,”
And think this stinking, dumb disgrace
Is life’s own limit, final place.
Wake up, fight on, and aim up high,
No matter how long you comply—
The end is ruin, full collapse:
Skin turns to dust, soul’s last relapse.
Soon comes the Digital Camp’s reign,
Built by sick minds, weak spirit’s bane.
So scream out loud, “NO!!!” to the grime—
Reject this pitiful slime in time.
---------------------
Check, Check, and Mate
No sign of any “literary flow” —
It’s always just one poet’s show.
More weight? Just hype and nonsense spun,
While half the fools still read the ****.
Three quarters of this numbskull throng
Still swallow trash, all day long.
It’s hard not to get stuck in sludge,
When shallow minds define the judge.
Hype blinds all—politics, “science” too.
A noose and soap seem overdue.
Sickened by these faces foul,
I’d rather spit than play their howl.
No critics left, no real reviews,
Self-published lies they choose.
They’ll say, “Back then it was much better.”
Shut up, idiot, don’t forget her—
That Soviet times let pages bear
Only topics banned to dare.
Writers silent if not false,
Lying or forcing garbage’s pulse.
Adding drops of mind was crime,
Branded rogue in the Soviet grime.
No “literary process” ahead,
Just endless rot where none are led.
Readers dumb and scribblers proud—
Giant fools in their own crowd.
The picture’s bleak and getting worse,
Blood runs cold—the final curse.
Check, then check—the game’s too late,
Soon comes mate. End of the state.
---------------------
Black Flag with a Beam Instead of Skull and Bones
Step by step — the path of courage:
To know, to break, to overturn.
A beam of light on black flag’s surface —
Means no retreat from dark to yearn.
Walk the beam like tightrope dancer,
Only few the sensitive souls,
Who stretch the moments of existence,
Defying darkness’ false controls.
Despising phantasms cast by shadows,
Where theories won’t provide a shield—
If you’re “filled” with just yourself alone,
No truths from outer worlds revealed.
Seek answers deep inside your being,
Ask questions true, and never fake.
The goal of light is honest seeing—
The greatest gift you’ll ever take.
That beam is thin, to slip is easy—
Like “******* *******,” small disgrace.
But rise again and try much harder,
Make fewer stumbles in the race!
The beam’s road leads into the light.
The key is just to keep the pace,
To leave behind the world of ruin,
Where soul’s salvation finds no place...
---------------------
Black Flag with a Beam — No Skull, No Bones
Step by step — we dare, we break,
Knock down lies, the falsehood’s stake.
Light’s sharp beam on black flag flies —
Means no backing down, no lies.
Walk the beam like circus freaks,
Few are those the darkness seeks.
They stretch the now, the brutal real,
Not fooled by shadows’ twisted spiel.
***** the phantoms darkness spins,
Theories fail if you’re just sins.
If you’re stuffed with empty pride,
Truth won’t come — no place to hide.
Dig inside — the answers lie.
Ask the questions, don’t comply!
Light’s aim is truth — no fake, no slack,
No mercy for the ones who crack.
That beam is thin — you’ll slip and fall,
Like ******* fingers, shame for all.
But get the hell up, fight the pain,
Mistakes you make fuel your gain!
Road of light — just keep on walking,
Leave the world that’s dead and choking.
No saving souls where filth prevails —
Rise up loud, break all the scales!
---------------------
Black Flag, No Skull — Just Laser Rage
Step the **** up — crush the lies!
Smash their shadows, burn their spies!
Black flag raised, beam cuts deep —
No retreat, no time to weep.
Walk the beam or get the hell lost,
Few survive — the dark’s the cost.
***** your theories, full of ****,
If you’re empty, you don’t fit.
Look inside, stop being blind,
Ask the real, leave fools behind!
Light’s a razor, thin and cold,
Slip once — you’re dead, truth sold.
Fall like **** — that’s weak-*** shame,
But get back up, fight the game!
Every ****-up sharpens steel,
Break their chains, make ’em kneel!
This road’s fire, not for sheep,
Leave their trash — wake from sleep!
No saving souls in filth and slime,
Rise or rot — it’s war, no time!
---------------------
Black Flag, No Skull — Just Pure Fire
Step up, smash the lies!
Burn their shadows, watch ’em die!
Black flag, laser blade,
No retreat, no afraid.
Walk the line or fall and rot,
Empty heads get kicked a lot.
Look inside, don’t be dumb,
Ask the truth — or ******* run!
Light’s a razor, sharp and thin,
Slip once — you’re done, no win!
Fall like ****? Weak-*** shame,
Get back up — fight the game!
Trash this world, break their chains,
No more slaves, no more chains!
Rise or rot — no time to pray,
Black flag leads — clear the way!
---------------------
While the Talking Broilers
A chicken dreams to fly?
No way — just scraps to buy.
The fool believes it’s fine
To live among beasts, “all’s divine.”
The fool mocks Spirit’s flight:
“What crap! No wings in sight!”
Culture’s made to dumb you down,
So thinking’s banned in this town.
Soulless fools make the crowd —
“What flight?” they scream out loud.
All they care for is skin,
Like broilers trapped within.
Wings in chickens — leftover past,
Among two-leggeds, speech’s cast
Into a fascist, twisted tongue,
Where beastly pressure grows strong.
Year by year, the freaks increase —
A genocide’s not ceased:
An evil “Allah” schemes
To **** off silent dreams.
CowID’s a freakish test —
Three-fourths fail, no contest.
Earth will clear the place
For ****’s last disgrace.
Cataclysms will wipe out
The beasts and all their doubt.
They plant idiocy’s seed —
Kick their filth, take the lead!
Ditch the lies and join the fight —
Prepare to take your flight.
Aim for Spirit’s higher road,
Or stay a broiler — dumb and slowed.
---------------------
Phantasmagoria on the Road to Hell
Pan’s “manna” — oily lies,
Each year more slick, despise.
The idiot bows much deeper —
To Hell he follows the reaper.
The road is dusted thick
With this “manna” trick.
They’ll say, “It’s just the snow!”
To trap you where you go.
Step in step, follow tight —
Digest the crap, no fight.
Be like all, ski the track,
Or ride the wheel, no slack.
Then fast you’ll reach your “blessings,”
Slathered lies, no guessing.
Crash on road, fall hard, you’ll see —
In the flip, they’ll “win” with glee.
If Soul’s crushed flat and thin,
Your Mind’s doomed deep within.
All that’s left: the “manna” crunch,
A soulless, stupid lunch.
Heartless fools, to guard their skins,
Push harder as the end begins.
The finish line’s a blazing mess —
A total ******* trainwreck, yes.
Pan’s the shepherd, flock’s the fools.
Care for skin? You break all rules.
Trash the rest — it’s all a jest —
Hell’s a debt you’ll never best.
---------------------
Phantasmagoria Road to Hell
Pan’s “manna” — greasy lies,
Every year the ******* flies.
Idiot bows his neck, no fight —
Marches straight into the night.
Road’s all covered, choked with slime,
This fake manna — poison crime.
They’ll say, “It’s just some snow, no stress!”
Trap you tight inside their mess.
Step by step, dumb ***** comply,
Choking down their own **** lies.
“Be like all,” they drone and preach,
On this ******-up, twisted screech.
Fast you’ll hit the pit of ****,
Fake “success” — a ******* ***.
Crash and burn on broken track,
Flip the script — no turning back.
Soul crushed flat like burnt-out trash,
Mind shredded in the ******* clash.
All that’s left is rotten gruel —
Stupid feast for soulless fools.
Heartless ******* guard their skins,
Racing fast to where hell begins.
Finish line? A ******* wreck —
Shitstorm rising, full of necks.
Pan’s the shepherd, fools the herd,
Skin’s the ******* final word.
Trash your soul, dump all the rest —
Hell’s your permanent address.
---------------------
Stupidity of the Mutant Breed
"It's easier to fool the people than to convince them they've been fooled."
— Mark Twain
Simpleton fool, so **** sure,
Seven feet of lies endure.
Underneath the hull, the lies—
Fear and fog cloud all the skies.
Ship sails toward “Success” they say,
Every port’s the same **** way.
Try to shout, “This ****’s absurd!”—
They’ll call you freak, ignore your word.
To the crowd you’ll be much worse
Than that tyrant Pol ***’s curse.
They’ll fight you, curse you, call you fool,
As if you broke their stupid rule.
Say, “Slavery’s the reigning game,
Madness rules the masses’ shame,
Tyrants hide behind their lies,”—
They’ll spin their heads, dismiss your cries.
“Mad you are!” the fools will shout,
Majority? They’ve lost all clout.
Like beasts bred just for meat,
In this slaughterhouse of deceit.
But fool—long gone is just the meat,
The whole **** world’s a slaughtered street.
No reason now to stay in hell—
Run fast, break free, escape this cell!
Only through the Spirit’s road
Can you save your crushed, worn soul.
But no book teaches this way,
Decay is “norm” in Hell’s display.
Only deep inside you’ll find
Truth that frees your shattered mind.
Forget advice, theories too—
Face the path. Don’t be a fool!
---------------------
Self-Destruction
Self-destruction is the tool
To avoid the world’s fool’s rule.
Since you were born, trapped inside—
Like a gas you can’t divide.
Slack your grip, content you’ll be,
With yourself — blind certainty.
But from those bells, faint screams arise—
Monsters’ howls, disguised in lies.
Barely heard, that whining strain,
Tears your ears, drives you insane.
Soon you’ll join the mindless crowd,
Uncritical, dumb and loud.
Turn your judgment outward, friend—
This fascist world will never end.
You’ll see evil’s endless spin,
Where Satan’s work hides deep within.
******, Mao, Stalin—name the worst,
Scarecrows for the greatest curse.
Madness reigns in our today,
Total ******* in every way.
Covid’s mask and Ukraine’s war
Show no chance to heal this scar.
Only death fits this foul breed—
Such vile madness none can heed.
