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Zulu Samperfas Mar 2013
In your past, this past
they weren't valued
no one said they were members of the family
what walks on four legs and is furry and cute is only
to last as long as nature intended and then to be disposed of

Veal calves in crates, taken from mothers on the day of their birth
to make more milk for humans, horse slaughter for glue
and foi gras, ducks and geese locked in a vice grip of their cages
metal tubes rammed down their throats and force fed until a liver disease
develops, painful, but given no respite
and served as a delicacy and
fur coats from animals skinned alive right here in America
still when mink farms are outlawed in the Netherlands and  
two million dogs and cats skinned in China every year not to mention
other horrors and no one cared or looked their way because they are
only animals, and voiceless and helpless and no one cared to give them
a voice or advocacy
"that's why they're there, for our use, people still say" who profit from an industry
of suffering

And today, there are people who try to give them a voice and there are veterinarians who will try to help you with your member of the family, as he suffers, in his old age
a bag of fluids hangs from my exercise  bike, and intermixed with my medications
is the painkiller and anti-nausea pills for my dear old friend
whose pancreas is failing
and father, this is foreign to you
you pretend it is a crime
silence is the only thing connecting us now

I hope you enjoyed your last barrage of unkind words
I think you did. The saddest thing I've learned about people like you
is
you feel better after such an attack, to see me reeling, bleeding on the ground
and you feel better, calmer and purged.
A kind of misbegotten peace settles over you
an exploitive peace from another's tears and pain

And yes, father, there were no agencies to give a voice to children
when you were young
no CPS, to aid my nine year old ***** friend
as a code of silence enveloped her attacker
to protect him, the one who destroyed her

But today there is a small brigade of a modern kind of love
to give a voice, protection, soothing to the ones who can
only suffer at our hands and not protect themselves from
our wrath and exploitation

and it is a better world for that, father
for my furry pancreatic friend and for any other
nine year old **** victims here
Liam May 2013
Exclusively molded in the divine image
  or egos big enough to declare it so
A dangerous theory
  a disastrous belief system

Gardeners of Eden
  turned stewards of entropy
Superiority conquest of nature
  symbiotic balance forsaken
  
Jealous hoarders of spirituality,
  sentience, self-awareness, intelligence
The irrational glorification of reason
  despite a history of upheaval and war

Bullies on the playground of manifest destiny
  exploitive excess worshiped as progress
Arrogantly intoxicated on the dregs of Pandora's jar
  blindly stumbling toward self-destruction 

Welcome to the valley of the shadow of death
             Environmental Armageddon
"So long, and thanks for all the fish" - Douglas Adams
Zulu Samperfas Mar 2013
They all look so young and lively and free on the Berkeley campus
walking and smiling and dancing swing and exercising and studying in internet
cafes and along the college walk there are clubs: pre-dental society,
women engineers, others, worn signs that stay out all year long in California and wear well
like the Clinton/Gore bumper sticker still visible and affixed to the stop sign off Telegraph and I wonder when there will be an avenue called "Internet"
And along the walls of Cafe Mediterraneum are highlights of the sixties, photographed by the dead owner of the place and there are still students studying and wierdos and old people reading books but there is no inspiration here anymore
From my generation, the eighties there are no pictures, and none from the seventies either and from the nineties and this decade has come and gone without notice on the walls
because youth by itself does not renew and innovate and the pressures of culture are too strong to re-invent and
it's not like there's nothing wrong, nothing that needs to be changed in our world today if anything things are worse
but now youth is only thinking about youth and buying low and selling high and there is no more idealism, no more desire to rectify anything, only to establish oneself as part of the middle class or above and have a house and 2.5 children
when the world is quickly being destroyed now just not by war, or an atomic bomb
that would be obvious because it would be loud and white and then there would be darkness and drops of rain and devestation
but I think I want to drop an intellectual bomb on these young people and tell them to wake up and try to change the world again and stop watching Reality TV and
do something that will help the world and put your picture on the wall of the Mediteraneum because you are trying to help the collective good and not just feather your own nest and not just worship the rich and exploitive entrepeneurs and try to emulate them as we were told to do in the eighties because that is just selfish meaninglessness that can't keep being replicated in this world, because it can't withstand it
our land and water can't withstand this lifestyle and the dollar store selling cutesie things made in China are coming from child labor and blood money and this dollar store is on Telegraph and no one cares or notices not even the young,
as slave labor continues to produce goods, just not here, where you can see it
and even if you care about animals, you can think of two million cats and dogs torchured and skinned alive for their fur in China and you , Berkeley are wearing it onn your fur trimmed coats
There is an eeries silence on Telegraph now where there should be the aliveness of debate and not just to get ahead, but to give a voice to the voiceless and alleviate the real and obvious suffering in the world
So youth, you are not so young and fresh you are a dissapointment
you are cowardly, pondering your own navel
and submissive and I expect more
THIS IS NOT ENOUGH
change is frightening, but it is
the only thing
that will save us
Mel Little May 2022
I was conceived on acid and whippets, the drugs a kaleidoscope of umbilical dreams.
I was conceived on bad luck and lust, from darkness and sexually exploitive childhood trauma.
I was conceived on teenage dreams and difficult childhoods, to black sheep children of 17.

I was raised on addiction and narcissism, a love bomb here and authoritarian abuse there.
I was raised on the chess long game, to lose a piece here means to win at the end.
I was raised on 2000s tv, Lorelei Gilmore my wish for a mother, Rory my idol.

I taught myself strength in building up a fantasy on the outside while my castle crumbled within.
I picked myself up by the tendrils of a lost childhood, by the whispers of good memories, by the hiding places I found in pages upon pages of someone else’s imagination.

And I let it all go at 28. To find peace. To start over. To build myself a new castle with no more haunted corners or echoes of pill bottles or smells of ***** and orange juice permeating the breaths of those who walk these sacred halls.
Rib cage cut open, heart destroyed and renewed, ancient umbilical nooses cut with teeth.

I will no longer fall victim to my mother’s circumstances or my father’s mistakes, I will never have the soul I’ve created look at me and ask himself if he is loved or safe.

I am cycle breaker,
I am generational karma’s worst ******* fear,
I am no longer frightened maiden,
I am fearsome mother.
I am new.
Jade Jan 2019
Sometimes,
I imagine I'm some
mourning starlet
who sings Lana Del Rey
at the club
every Saturday night.

A honeyed halo of stage light
tangles itself about
the curled labyrinth
of my hair,
sparkles gold against
my tearing irises.

My mouth parts
and the war cries begin.

In the moments that
the melody offers
my voice repose,
I pound shots to the beat
of the drummer's ramblings.

The crowd applauds
my tipsiness,
their hoots of praise
shaking at the depths
of my eardrums
like an intoxicated tambourine.

My neuroticism
fascinates these people,
I think.

Not in an
exploitive,
let's-glamourize-depression
kind of way,
but in an
it is a truth universally acknowledged
kind of way--in a
"*******, cuz I've been there too"
kind of way.

See,
within my little,
concocted fantasy
of stage light
and music
and *****,
the people don't judge me
the way they do
on the outside.

Here,
I am not
melodramatic or
overly sensitive or
disposable.

Here,
my war cries sound
a little less
like death and
a little more
like poetry.

Here,
they love me
in spite of the sadness.

Here,
we share a song--
here,
they sing with me.
Don't be a stranger--check out my blog!

jadefbartlett.wixsite.com/tickledpurple

(P.S. Use a computer to ensure an optimal reading experience)
Daniel Ospina May 2016
There is a day when dreams are
Exiled, left to waste away --
The dry sands of tomorrow.
Magnificent dreams,
Too daring, ambitious, demanding,
Cast aside, in hopes that they’ll
Flourish on their own.
We’ll dream once more…
Tomorrow

There is a day when opportunities
Are swallowed by the tides,
And sink to fathomless trenches
Never to be seen again,
For there might be another one…
Tomorrow.

There is a day when unspoken words
With the potential to change a life sit
In one’s tongue, embittering over time,
Since someone else will speak them…
Tomorrow.

There is a day when the Earth will perish
By exploitive and negligent hands.
We were all aware of what was to come,
So let us amend our ways...
Tomorrow.

Somethings simply just cannot wait.
Perhaps tomorrow is a day too late.
Nicholas Harris Dec 2012
I fumble my tongue to please my brain. To ensue the passion of hilarity for others through the shame I lack.

If you write, you write wrong. No, sorry, you write incorrectly... No still not the right writing.

The grammar you possess is lacking enthusiasm in construction and production.

You fumble words in a loose platonic, exploitive passion of hilted disappointment.

Grammar and creation grow as production does. One-to-one the tower grows on an even playing field of iron I-beams and the office on aluminum T shaped cubical walls.

I apologize profusely if this has been difficult to process. Let us consider this a difficult simulation of your current level on sentence structure, and comprehensive understanding.
Zulu Samperfas Dec 2012
Behind my apartment complex
is a small creek
dry most of the year and filled
with trash
it gurgles this time of year with
brown foamy water
the wash of industrial civilization
at first the smell is foul, but now
is merely murky and there is no
smell and a pleasing sound of water

I look for signs of coziness around me
and I notice steam rising from the laundry
room that is visible in the cold
like a chimney puffing comfy smoke
into the rainy air

And I think of you and I'm afraid
I thought of you in Walmart
My life--this is the real thing
there are no romantic castles, only
a wet shopping cart in a crowded exploitive store
As I passed by the packaged vegetables
and stared at the racks and racks of ugly clothes
I thought, I am in control

The fear wells up inside of me
fear of HIM.  That him who squashed me
who took over my mind
I think of all the books I read, as people pass
by with very important shopping to do and
a homeless man makes a decision about which milk to buy
and he smells horrible, like decay and wetness
and people resent him and I wish
there were no homeless people
I wish there was more caring and less brutality in our world.

The key is not to care about HIM until you know who he is
The key is to keep your distanced mind in judgement
And I must remember this key because I swear
no one will ever hurt me that much again.

I am a hidden creek, a pristine one, because I would
never hurt the natural world as we have
He cannot see it, or any other he, until
I know exactly who he is.
Cynthia Jean Dec 2016
paid mercenaries

these are not riots

this violence is all paid for

you have sold your souls
you have sold your souls
you have sold your souls
you have sold your souls
you have sold your souls

you are stirred up pawns

you have been pawns
for a long, long time

voter puppets of the democratic party
not ever expected to think for yourself
so easily used
and manipulated

kept in a different type
of slavery

shaped and honed and fed
like cattle
in a stall

to be used only as
inseminators
(let's create more voters)

not allowed to be fathers
(let's **** the family)
(family?)
( what's that?)

fatherhood
a forgotten trait
only progenitors
raised by generations of women
on the dole
fathers not allowed
in the home

used, used, used
can't
won't
see it!

stirred up in the cauldron of anger

who are the real haters????

???
??? whose lives matter???
???

only those killed and used for media attention

and believe me, they are used by everyone
from the president on down

never waste a good crisis
and
when necessary
create
one

do the large numbers
of
brother killing brother
matter?

and why not?

we don't hear about those numbers
on the nightly news

guess those lives must not matter

do the lives lost
the babies killed
the genocide of planned parenthood
one in every neighborhood
do they matter?

do they matter?
do they matter?
do they matter?
do they matter?
do they matter?
do they matter?

no one speaks of them

why not?
why not?
why not?
why not?
why not?
why not?

because brother against brother
and baby genocide
don't matter
to the media

HELLO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they all fall in line with Bill Gates
population control
anyway

only the deaths
used for
exploitive
incendiary
political purposes
matter

to the elitists
the George Soros types
and the media

pawns=slaves
pawns=slaves
pawns=slaves
pawns=slaves
pawns=­slaves
pawns=slaves

generations of pawns
whose usefulness
will soon be over
being used one more time
to start all these fires

where will these pawns be
when the fires go out?

who will bother
to pay them
to feed them
then?

their usefulness
to *****'
will be over
then.

I cry for the pawns
for my brothers and sisters
for all the fatherless
children.

a life is worth so much more.
a life is worth so much more.
a life is worth so much more.
a life is worth so much more.
a life is worth so much more.
a life is worth so much more.

a life is worth so much
a life is worth so
a life is worth
a life is
a life
a
.
.
.
.
.


Cj 2016
Masterful ownership, I am lost between cards, the green table, set and speckled, distracted by the colors and forgetful of the number, exploitive, love the spices, and aggressive, and tired of being bullied, fragrance chasers, chortling in remarks blase in cafe's I'm meager minded but with fortunate background, I am spoiled but somehow burst from the bubble, some sort of rodent stuck out of time, letting the chemicals do their work, like dousing a cheetah in kerosine, just most toxic and full of rage, spotted and dying, closer to living without restraint, devoid of taste, my fears overwhelm me, driving me, my own secufled
Kagey Sage Jul 22
The uniting spirit between us
hundreds of thousands of years and
we lived as hunter-gatherers

This blip in civilization
has been the ascension of the individual
Look at all us tyrants can do by exploiting the universal potential
Spur on division amid the masses and channel any
enlightening sciences into lip service appeasements
that only serve to enhance the status quo
hum-**, regular old exploitive system
we verify by looking back
in our teleological telescopes
Just like the Dutch East India pirates in the Spice Islands

The worst of it is the hypocrisy of it all
Saying they're for freedom and rights
and endorse the man from Galilee handing out fish to
panhandling outcasts, but no
of course the killing is worse
than the irony in between

MacDonald's dead, his tartan's in rags
We're powerless
so we became smart as kids
Putz around, find out stupid ruthlessness wins
Some folks just can't do it
True Clarity

To keep the mind unclouded,
No chatter, no deceit —
Perceive this world as shrouded
In filth beneath its sheet.

Observe — but stay unshaken,
Seek out your primal face,
And when the Light has wakened
One moment of its grace —

Don't cling! Or else illusion
Will fake that Light again.
Thus every foul delusion
Is dressed in holy names:

"Enlightenment", "Nirvana"...
The ****** will always fall
For trash dressed as banana
Peels in their monkey squall.

The fakes of evil linger —
They flood the world, they hum.
The Soul has guiding fingers,
While lies will lead to ****.

This madhouse of deception —
It’s global. Time to wake!
This coma-like reception
Of dreams you must forsake.

To intuition turning —
Forget tradition’s cage!
A dogma merely burning
With ego’s rotting rage.

So many preach like parrots,
So few are truly pure.
Your Soul may rot in tarots
If dogma is your cure.

The world is run by vermin —
Religions packed with brutes.
Their festivals determine
How Satan prosecutes.

Reject their pomp and poison!
Their “science” just as fake —
Corrupted and exploitive,
A war for spirit's sake.

A war against all Meaning —
The frontlines are your mind.
Be strong, refuse their scheming,
No peace with those aligned.

Not humans — just abusers,
The herd is mostly dead.
No place left now for losers
If demons rule instead.

So keep your mind untainted —
Let this your protest be.
Stand tall, though darkness's painted
The world — and fight to see.



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




1.
Keep your mind a blazing blade —
The world is filth in holy shade.

2.
Clarity's revolt begins
Where lies wear halos on their sins.

3.
Don't kneel to beasts in sacred dress —
Their dogma leads to mind's regress.

4.
The soul won't shine in demon schools —
Reject their gods. Defy their rules.



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



The Deadlings

A tangled mess of empty schemes —
Deceit, delusion, fruitless fear.
This world’s dementia kills our dreams —
And turns our lives to ash down here.

Not ash alone — the walking dead
Surround the few who still can think.
To call them fools won’t clear your head —
Their souls are gone. They rot. They stink.

Soulless, mindless, they are many,
Yet preach of “God” with vacant grin.
That’s just the mark — the dark uncanny
Of filth the propaganda’s in.

Fascism rules the global madhouse,
A circus soaked in fear and shame.
The Spirit fades. We drift in blackout,
While Reason’s near-extinguished flame.

This is the frame — you’ve seen it clearly
In lines above, without a mask.
And each bears blame. If you act merely
By silence — you betray the task.

Your soul will shrink in meek submission,
Your mind will rot and fall apart.
You’ll join the ranks of Death’s procession —
Unless you burn this madhouse start!

The choice is made — on high, it's spoken:
The Sun ignites — no shade, no shield.
It burns this world of minds all broken —
This hell, where Satan’s crown is sealed.

A tangled mess of hollow chatter,
Of fear and fraud and empty pride —
Yet if you’re free from all this clatter,
You just might not be cast aside.

So slam the door — let truth come roaring!
Create, expose, reveal, defy!
Let no one see you kneel, imploring —
But watch the Beast with open eye.

Few hear — propaganda's swelling,
It blinds, it numbs, it calls the shots.
This rotting world’s controlled by felons,
Who herd the meek in stinking lots.

They herd. They “heal.” They called it CowID,
A circus trick for global fools.
But retribution's coming — how it’d
Scorch those who claimed they made the rules!

The Reaper’s near — from higher stations.
He’ll reap the wise and burn the weeds.
So rise — in strength and revelation:
The weak stay mute when evil feeds.



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




1.
The deadlings preach while Reason dies —
Burn down their madhouse, tear the lies!

2.
Don't beg the Beast, don't kiss its claw —
Expose the filth, become the Law.

3.
The Sun is lit. The weeds will burn.
Now is the time — refuse to turn.

4.
A soul that kneels is dead already.
Stand tall. Be fierce. Be sharp. Be steady.



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



Take the Blow

Take the blow of fate, degraded —
You're not the judge of mortal things.
Satan, godlike simulated,
Strikes those who won’t bow down to kings.

So few refuse to bow or grovel —
Through crowds, his vengeance finds its prey.
If you endure too long, you’ll swallow
Your soul — in Hell. And honor? Stray.

And Reason sinks as well, discarded —
They stir all minds into decay.
This mix must rot — dark, foul, unguarded —
The Beast demands it be that way.

They call it "thought", this mass infection —
A groupthink brain, half-dead, half-blind.
But you — the one who shows defection —
They’ll break you down with all their kind.

The parents first, the school, the leaders,
The crowd — they’ll come in one tight wave.
They’ll train you fast — not as a thinker,
But as a servant. As a slave.

It’s hard to take those blows, unbending,
Alone — but if you still resist
The world of fakes and false pretending,
You’ll glimpse the Spirit’s shining mist.

Soullessness is all around you.
The halfwits want to teach you how
To crawl, submit, and let them hound you —
In Hell, that’s what they nurture now.

So go within — where intuition
Can guide you through the darkest hour.
Don’t count on rituals or traditions —
They're masks for greed, control, and power.

Religious “gods” are fed and bloated,
While truth is smothered under gold.
And science too is weak and hopeless
If Spirit there is bought and sold.

Lies hit much harder than injections
Of fear and filth from soulless swarms.
The media breeds mass infections —
Through lies they rule, through lies they form.

For centuries the beasts have guided
This world through fear, deceit, and pain.
And now, the rot can’t be divided —
It burns. It breaks. And none remain.

The purge begins through great collisions —
Disasters come to clear the air.
This world, that drowned in fascist visions,
Will reap the doom it chose to bear.

But if you took the blow — and stayed there,
And didn’t break — then you may rise.
Fight back. Don't beg. Let truth invade there —
Within are all the clear replies.



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




1.
The blow of lies? Take it and stand.
Truth strikes within — not by command.

2.
They train you soft. You fight alone.
But Spirit shines when masks are gone.

3.
Bow down — you're dead. Resist — you rise.
The war is won through inner eyes.

4.
The Beast breeds fear. The herd obeys.
You burn it down — or rot in haze.



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



Pseudo-Science, or The CowID Test


“There is only as much truth in science as there is math in it.”
— Immanuel Kant

When Laplace was asked why he admitted physicians to the Academy,
though medicine isn’t a science, he said:
“So they can speak with scientists.”


Mathematics can’t describe
Even particles with grace —
And the “sciences” contrive
Pure lies to hide their hollow face.

But none have lied so deep, so wide
As medicine in modern dress.
(That Laplace did not foresee —
What filth would flourish from that mess.)

CowID proved it. Take a glance:
The herd is real — the mask, their brand.
A leash for minds that stand no chance,
With swine and vultures in command.

Those who launched that filthy fable
Are too many to be named.
Now we sit at death’s own table —
Where Reason’s final breath is claimed.

The test is failed. The cage is rising.
Digital, cold, and brightly lit.
No escape for those still trying
To think — they’re first to be “unfit.”

The “uninfected” will be hunted.
One by one, they’ll disappear.
All your hopes are now confronted —
For there’s no shelter left for clear.

Degeneration’s law is binding —
This whole dumb world, a broken pact.
And the verdict is defining:
Poisoned cheese. A fatal trap.



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




1.
A mask for truth, a leash for thought —
The CowID test? You failed. You’re caught.

2.
Not science — just a slaughterhouse.
The mind is dead. Long live the mouse.

3.
The trap was baited, cheese was sweet —
Now Reason rots beneath their feet.

4.
They called it “care”. It stank of fear.
The herd obeyed — now death is near.



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



Stanisław Jerzy Lec


“The ones who’ve made this world grotesque
Are always first to ask me:
‘Isn’t it beautiful?’”
— S. J. Lec


Oh, such a beautiful world — hooray!
Liars take aim at truth each day.
Their bullets? Stupidity, proudly worn,
Growing in caliber since I was born.

He died in Poland — Stanisław L.
Did he foresee this corporate Hell?
The rise of CowID, the AIDS parade,
A fascist plague in TV-grade.

This filth — “so beautiful”, beasts proclaim.
They rule this globe through blood and shame.
To walk through lies and stay awake
Without becoming just another fake —

That’s not just luck. That’s strength and pain.
And still they scream, with ghoulish grin:
“It’s better now! The world is grand!”
While filth pours out from every hand.

They’ll lie and lie till lies wear gold —
The herd believes what it is told.
“No horror here!” — they chant, amazed.
But is it “people”… or just “grazed”?



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




1.
“It’s beautiful!” — the demons shout,
While torching truth and wiping out.

2.
They beg for praise, these beasts in power —
Who ****** on beauty every hour.

3.
You call it “peace”? You call it “grace”?
Then wipe the blood off your own face.

4.
The world’s not vile? Then take a look —
They’ve hung the truth on every hook.



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



Approach of the Sheepish Hell

Darkness thickens, rabble turns to sheep,
Bowed beneath the weight of fear and lies
That pour in torrents from the screens — so deep
Mirages spawn, the life they disguise.

A life that serves the Evil’s throne,
But twisted back against the homeland’s core.

We inch toward Sheep Hell — obedience the key.
Within the New Stable ends the road we roam.
It started in chains, beneath fascist debris,
They turn us all to sheep — and little’s left to go.

CowID revealed it all — a muzzle was the test.
Three quarters lost in madness’ grip — no hope, no rest.
For those poor souls, no return to human light.
Room six is sorrow’s ward — a hopeless night.

But fear and bowing down have all been wasted now —
No saving grace in chains, for “evil” cataclysm nears.
It’ll crush the Sheepish World — that filth, that falsehood’s vow.
CowID showed the truth: fascism reigns in all frontiers.



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




1.
Sheep herd bound in lies and fear —
Hell draws near, the end is clear.

2.
CowID’s muzzle marks the sheep —
No escape, the fall is deep.

3.
Fascism’s shadow rules the fold —
Burn the lies, reclaim the soul.

4.
Obedience leads straight to Hell —
Break the chains, refuse the spell.



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



The Sieve in "Science"

“If facts don’t back the theory —
They must be swept away.”
— Arthur Bloch, “Murphy’s Law”


They sift out all the facts they hate —
The base of science sold and sold.
Few strange attractors here, just bait
Of false docs forged, the lies retold.

With doctored proofs, the **** create
The “evidence” they’re paid to spin.
The media then broadcasts fate —
A poison drip that dulls within.

But facts that would expose the fraud —
A growing heap they bury deep.
All that’s left heard is the nod
Of rot that in their minds will creep.

For orders come from Satan’s throne —
Their masters set the lies to flow.
Hence all around the fake has grown:
Fake AIDS, CowID — fascism’s show.

They think a needle kills more than bombs,
And honest scientists grow scarce.
Instead, they smother colleagues’ qualms —
Destroying truth with subtle farce.

Theories brewed on ***** deals —
“Proofs” whipped up before you blink.
Betrayal rules from peaks to seals —
This world is poison, on the brink.

Theories bought and sold at will,
They play the world like puppets’ strings.
All traitors marching, sharp and shrill —
Attacking fools on broken wings.

The fool surrenders, soon will fall
Darkness’ triumph, cold and grim.
The few who fight stand lone, small,
Bright minds trapped in shadows dim.

Only few resist the evil —
So odds are thin, but still alive.
If you don’t bow, that cursed upheaval
Will falter — madness won’t survive.

That madness bred by false science,
By religion steeped in lies —
A world of torment and compliance,
Where fascism rules and multiplies.

“Science” as a fascist creed:
“Proven!” cries the zombie herd,
Drowned in idiocy, they feed
The slave’s dull, never-ending word.

The mad slaves churned out on demand —
A scientific assembly line.
What comes next? The beast’s command:
To turn us all to cattle, fine.

Just look at Russia’s “Putin” show —
A world beneath, a hellish draft.
But there’s a twist: the warm winds blow —
“Science” means cows that ****, not craft.

My gut whispers now: “Redemption’s near —
Through Death — if that foul world will fall,
By venom’s hand, the truth is clear,
The beast that breaks will break it all.”



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




1.
Facts be ****** — the lies take root,
Science sold to fascist brute.

2.
Proofs are forged, the fools comply,
Slaves in chains, no reason’s sky.

3.
CowID’s stink, the herd’s disgrace —
Science turned a slaughterplace.

4.
Madness churns on factory lines,
Turning minds to cattle fines.



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



The Path of Knowing

“He who ignores the question of existence
suffers from weak-mindedness.”
— Arthur Schopenhauer


A world of fools — prepare for noise,
But not for true existence’ voice.
To fools, this torment is denied —
They clutch the lies, their senses tied.

Look ‘round — it’s cash, not quests or books,
That keeps the vile machine’s strong hooks.
A propaganda war so mean,
To keep the masses dull and keen.

From childhood on, they teach the throng:
“Obey! Dream small, don’t think too long —
About your cottage, car, your toys...”
And thus are made the brainless boys.

Exceptions vanish, birds extinct,
Their voices lost — no time to think.
Idiots rise to fill the space,
As reason dies without a trace.

CowID’s bottom showed the truth —
Reason crushed, no mental ruth.
Digital camps loom close ahead,
Decay spreads fast — the dead will tread.

Artificial dumbing down —
Pressured by lies and false renown.
False science chains, fake faith controls,
Fear and nerves enslave the souls.

The masses dumb, wild, crazed, profane —
They only know to chase the gain.
And here’s the test, the question true:
Will you break free, or join the crew?

Will you reject the herd’s dumb lies,
Seek truth alone, be clear and wise —
Or fall with three quarters of the herd,
Their minds as deaf as any bird?

Grow sharp and fine — embrace your gut,
Let critical mind not shut.
Remember: mind beneath the Spirit,
Belly’s just the noisy merit.

Stock patience well — the Path is hard.
To know the Spirit — not by cards.
Spirit through Spirit comes to light,
Mind’s just tool to hold it right.

The moment comes — a sudden gleam —
When clarity breaks logic’s scheme.
Connected to the all, the whole —
It halts the rot that kills the soul.

Without this direct, clear sight,
Decay is law — your fading light.
This is the core of Spirit’s road.
So rise — begin your heavy load!



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




1.
Break free from herd, awake your mind —
True Spirit’s path is hard to find.

2.
Mind serves Spirit — gut just noise,
Walk the path, reclaim your poise.

3.
Clarity bursts beyond the scheme —
Stop decay, ignite the dream.

4.
Three quarters lost — don’t be their prey,
Rise up, and walk the Spirit’s way.



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



Fascist States and Their Pocket Terrorism

Terrorism bows to idiocy —
A tool that fools embrace with glee.
**** serving fascism’s throne —
The states that own the terror’s bone.

They must create the very mess,
To sell “solutions” — more distress.
Strengthening chains, deepening the cage —
We’ll rot in camps, the modern stage.

They blew the towers — CIA’s hand —
So Sovok’s ghosts could still command.
To keep the eagle’s head bowed down,
Suppressing any rising crown.

No future here — just idiotic norm,
CowID revealed the storm.
Beasts lie brazen, vile, and stark,
With every year they darken dark.

Lawlessness spreads like poison’s flame —
Fascism worse than ******’s name.
Executions swapped for needles’ sting,
A new war masked with suffering.

The tightening grip drags us deep,
This world descends, no chance for sleep.



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




1.
Fascist states breed terror’s breed —
Control by fear, obey, concede.

2.
Towers fall, lies rise in smoke —
Needles replace the gun’s cold stroke.

3.
CowID’s reign, the darkest hour —
Chains grow tight, they **** the power.

4.
No future left — the cage is set,
Fight or drown in their cold net.



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



Independent Thinking

“Humanity — or most of it — hates to think alone.
It takes as insult even the faintest call
To leave the beaten path and walk a new,
Different road by its own judgment.”
— Helena Blavatsky


To think is hard. To think is fear:
A world dissolves, once held so near.
No help from thought you’ll ever find —
It fails to save the common mind.

The meek fool mocks, “What a dunce!”
The tyrant’s wrath will soon pronounce:
If quick, it’s death or prison’s chain —
For thinking frees — they fear the brain.

Dumbing down and spirit’s death —
The “path” all generations take.
They march to Hell’s advancing breath,
Dragging souls beneath the break.

CowID showed how close the gate —
Three quarters lost to mindless state.
The herd believes and blindly obeys —
Genocide speeds through fatal haze.

Soulless fools are worse than Hell,
For fascism’s roots grow strong and swell.
The world resembles filth and slime,
As darkness thrives and kills all time.

From filth to Hell’s dark road extends,
When Mind and Spirit slip to end.
Just wait a while — hear tyrants knock —
Their servants come to seal the lock.



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




1.
To think alone? They’ll call you fool —
But freedom’s spark breaks every rule.

2.
Three quarters lost — the herd obeys,
While tyrants set the world ablaze.

3.
Mind dulled to dust, the soul decayed —
The path to Hell is self-made.

4.
Stand firm, resist, or be the pawn —
The tyrant’s grip will crush the dawn.



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



"Rising from the Knees"...

Chains have sunk into my knees.
I try to rise, but cannot break.
This is fate for all degrees —
The rotten fool believes in hate.

Decay has eaten through the soul —
Worse than CowID’s dark toll.
The further on, the more insane
The wicked breed their creeping bane.

False diseases — test balloons,
Then Digital Camps’ cruel run.
**** disposed of free and loose —
War on beasts, a deadly ruse.

Each day grows the tyrant’s sway,
Building ranks through media’s play.
If you refuse to sell your soul,
You’ll greet death as final goal.

A “reward” of darker night —
The gloom compresses ever tight.
Yet one comfort still remains:
Counting down the end of chains.

Cataclysm will disrupt
The plans of filthy, cruel ****.
Back to Hell they all will go —
With sheep beside them, lost below.

Count the days — the hour’s near.



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




1.
Chains dig deep, we try to rise —
Fools trust lies, the darkness flies.

2.
False plagues spread, the camps prepare —
Only fools will face despair.

3.
Media builds the tyrant’s throne —
Refuse to bow, or die alone.

4.
Countdown ticks — the end will come,
Filth and sheep will burn as one.



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



The Flow Is No Good

It’s far more vital to observe
The flow’s dynamics — not preserve
Some frozen, torn-out fragment’s part,
Ripped from the stream’s continuous heart.

The flow’s alive — not just a flash.
To study that — a pointless clash.
Give me an experiment,
Simple yet elegant, well meant.

Nature flows, a ruthless stream —
Rip out a shred? It kills the dream.
Dissect it raw — that’s how you gain
All trophies, but it’s all in vain.

Divide it down, cell by cell,
You build a cruel classifier’s hell.
This twisted work they’ll all applaud —
A beast who serves the devil’s fraud.

For beasts alone, false science reigns,
For centuries it feeds their chains.
Darkness thickens — vile ******* crave
To drive the sane into the grave.

CowID revealed the score —
False science wages war.
Spirit wiped from theory’s frame —
Life’s foundation lost to shame.

Not at head, but all in pain —
The world herded, locked in chain.
Spirit rules above the mind,
Flow of nature’s grand design.

They want to banish it outright,
Cast the people into night.
Worse than cattle, worse than slime —
Soulless nothing, clay to grime.

Beasts mold monsters vile and dark,
While lies keep fueling world’s bark.
Corrupt “science” — brazen lies,
Mirages fed to duller minds.

Since childhood’s cruel deceit,
Fools are torn by false conceit.
All means used to dumb and blind —
Hell’s order, ruthless and unkind.

“Culture” — a dulling plague,
Polluted by the beastly plague.
Decay spreads everywhere —
We don’t live — we rot in despair.

For Spirit’s scarce among the throng,
Oppressed by fiends for far too long.
The last hope fades — the end is near,
But fools and beasts shall also fear.

Their end will come — no doubt, no jest —
Justice burns away the rest.



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




1.
False science feeds the beasts’ vile game,
Dulling minds, destroying flame.

2.
Spirit crushed, the herd’s controlled,
Soulless clay, the lies unfold.

3.
Culture rots, the darkness grows —
We don’t live, we’re buried foes.

4.
Last hope fades, but beasts will fall —
Justice comes to cleanse it all.



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



The Wheel of Ages

Putin will perish —
A new fiend will rise,
Spreading his filth
Through media lies:

Perestroika
And all that trash —
Thrown to the dumps,
No cash, no cash.

Worse awaits —
That’s the law’s decree.
Spirit weakens,
Reason flees.

By their deeds
And profits’ greed:
Fake diseases,
Horrors breed.

Wars and famine —
We deserve these fates,
If we endure,
Bound by Satan’s hates.

Putin’s just a minor spawn.
Too late to weep —
The nightmare’s drawn:

World Armageddon,
Specialists for mindless slaves.
Waiting for their end,
The world unravels in waves.

Filth spews from vile Schwab’s mouth,
Instead of Freedom —
The “Swab Zone” drouth.

The **** amuses the crowd,
Awaiting the next attack —
False plagues, poison’s sting,
Completing Evil’s track.

Putin will vanish.
All will fade.
Ashes cool down.
In the wheel’s shade —

The new hellish “new” world
Will choose its tyrant still.
Only a cigarette ****,
Or a ****’s will.

The world’s a camp, though called “social” —
The wheel of ages spins so cold.
Only down into abyss,
New CowID’s hold.

Reason killed once more —
Shame repeats its core.



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




1.
Putin falls — new beast will rise,
Spreading lies to blind our eyes.

2.
Fake plagues strike, the tyrants grin —
The wheel turns — the end begins.

3.
Reason dies, the shame returns,
Into abyss the whole world burns.

4.
New hell’s throne will claim its king —
Social camp or cursed ring.



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



Unlimited Power of the Inhuman


"All your dreams, desires, your animal lust,
Boil only ’round one thing — your food and dust.
Your envy, greed, and mindless, endless blight —
A colossal weapon wielded with cruel might."
— From a ruling inhuman’s confession, Moscow, 1991


Boundless stupidity,
Filth with no escape —
Fools kneel broken
Beneath the freaks’ cruel shape.

Envy, greed, and fear —
They pull the strings,
Racing fast full gear,
Directing everything.

Beasts drive us straight to Hell —
New Hell, old and vile,
A corrupt fiend leads well,
Ruling in ruthless style.

No pure souls stand among,
Unyielding and upright.
We wait the signal, “Hunt!”
In cities penned so tight.

CowID revealed it all —
They obey with zeal.
War — the new disgrace,
Souls crushed beneath the heel.

Through stupidity and fear,
This hell’s foundation laid.
A world turned to rotten dust —
Only lies are freshly made.

Total media reigns,
True power cloaked and sly.
The fiend receives the crown
From caste that rules on high.

The beast’s domain,
A box of zombie dung.
Servants of the stench
Where lies are proudly sung.

Dumbing down named “school,”
Equated to the herd.
How low we’ve fallen —
Mindless, deaf, unheard.

“Medicine” — a darkness spread,
In ages bleak and cursed,
The world’s chaotic mess
Into ruin coerced.

Those with minds grow fewer still,
Madness thrives, genocide’s will.

There’s hope — a cataclysm comes,
For souls with honor’s drum.
Surpassing fascist Hell’s domain,
Quick retreat to Spirit’s plane.

Fools and idiots march ahead —
To new false dreams they’re led.



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




1.
Stupidity boundless, filth supreme,
Fools bow down beneath the scheme.

2.
Envy, greed, and fear command —
Beasts drag souls to Hell’s dark land.

3.
Media’s poison, lies on blast,
Truth is dying — cursed and cast.

4.
Cataclysm waits — the end is near,
Spirit rises — fiends will fear.



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




1.
Shadow beasts weave fate’s cruel thread,
But Spirit wakes where angels tread.

2.
In darkest pits, the truth lies hid,
A flame unborn, yet never rid.

3.
Souls enslaved by lies and fear,
But ancient light draws ever near.

4.
Cataclysm’s roar shakes the veil,
New dawn breaks — the spirits hail.



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




1. Shadow beasts weave fate’s cruel thread,
But Spirit wakes where angels tread.
In veils of night, the darkness calls,
Yet deeper still, the silence falls.
Through shattered dreams and broken skies,
A whispered truth begins to rise.

2. In darkest pits, the truth lies hid,
A flame unborn, yet never rid.
Beneath the rot and veils of lies,
A seed of light prepares to rise.
Though shadows bind and chains confine,
The soul’s bright spark will yet outshine.

3. Souls enslaved by lies and fear,
But ancient light draws ever near.
Behind the veil of cruel disguise,
The phoenix waits to claim the skies.
When chaos rages, fierce and wild,
The spirit frees the inner child.

4. Cataclysm’s roar shakes the veil,
New dawn breaks — the spirits hail.
From ashes black, the truth will soar,
Unlocking every guarded door.
Though tyrants reign and darkness breeds,
The dawn is born from desperate deeds.



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



Whispers Beyond the Veil

Shadow beasts weave fate’s cruel thread,
Yet Spirit wakes where angels tread.
In veils of night, the darkness calls,
But deeper still, the silence falls.

Through shattered dreams and broken skies,
A whispered truth begins to rise.
Beneath the rot and veils of lies,
A seed of light prepares to rise.

Though shadows bind and chains confine,
The soul’s bright spark will yet outshine.
Souls enslaved by lies and fear,
But ancient light draws ever near.

Behind the veil of cruel disguise,
The phoenix waits to claim the skies.
When chaos rages, fierce and wild,
The spirit frees the inner child.

Cataclysm’s roar shakes the veil,
New dawn breaks — the spirits hail.
From ashes black, the truth will soar,
Unlocking every guarded door.

Though tyrants reign and darkness breeds,
The dawn is born from desperate deeds.
The wheel of ages spins with strife,
Yet light endures — eternal life.

So hold the flame within your chest,
Through storm and night, endure the test.
For in the depths where shadows play,
The Spirit finds a brighter way.



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



So-Called "Culture"

Clipped culture’s flashing light,
Comic-book minds in flight,
Vile lies and censored views,
Corruption, dulling the muse.

Madness sweeping all around,
Fear in every soul is found.
Evil’s patience spreads its field,
Betrayal’s work — vast and sealed.

It’s become the daily grind,
Fools by lies are led, confined.
Last traces of the sane erased,
These are times where beasts have paced.

Final days, the truth is shown —
For most, the herd’s a mindless drone.



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



Parasites and Parasite-Images

Parasite-images
Forever dwell in mind:
Many “cracked” all around —
Like guns, they mow the blind.

Lies and counterfeit visions,
Manipulation’s thread —
No end in sight; again demons
Mock the maddened herd.

Mass-produced for the crowd
Are tools to dumb, not build,
A new wave — these pillars
Of camps to trap the wild.

A world “two-in-one,” where goal
Is also means — insane.
The curtain’s fallen, truth unfolds —
Those images remain:

A filthy plague you cannot shed —
Hold on to them, and you’re as good as dead.



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




1.
Parasite images haunt the mind,
Dumbing crowds, enslaved and blind.

2.
Lies spin webs that never cease,
Madness thrives — no hope, no peace.

3.
Mass-produced chains for souls confined,
Trap the herd — enslave the mind.

4.
Can’t shake the filth inside your head?
Hold tight — you’re as good as dead.



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



Finishing the Task

I’m in the game, I’m in the fight — no need to ponder,
The choice is clear; there’s only one true wonder:
To marshal strength, cut mental noise to less,
Master of self, no need to second-guess.

I’ve always been my own command,
On this path I came to understand:
The past is dust, layer upon layer falls,
Into the abyss when the moment calls.

Experience sharp and fierce I gain —
Needed well to master the game.
The act is done, the stage well-played,
Now all that’s left is the final shade.

That final mark — it’s death’s release,
Enduring shame, finding peace.
Complete the task — embrace the close,
Meet death with joy, in light transpose.



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




Finish the fight — no time to stall,
One path, one choice — must risk it all.
Cut the noise, command your mind,
Death’s the gate — leave shame behind.

Task complete, the curtain falls,
Face the end — hear freedom’s calls.



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



So-Called "Civilization"

A fragile layer, thin and weak —
Scratch beneath that hollow streak,
This pathetic masquerade
Hides much filth in its charade.

Sensitive souls will quake in fright,
When spirit wakes to see the blight,
Decay is total, minds have died,
Souls consumed, nowhere to hide.

They hang their lies and laugh aloud,
Chanting spells to fool the crowd:
“This is civilization!” they say —
A march to slaughter on display.



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




Thin the veil, decay within,
Civilization’s hollow sin.
Souls are lost, the mind is dead,
Led to slaughter, blind and led.



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




A fragile mask of “civilized” decay,
Beneath it rot and filth hold sway.
Souls consumed in infernal night,
Minds extinguished, snuffed out light.

They string their lies, mock and sneer,
“Civilization” — a death march clear.
A herd led blind to slaughter’s den,
No hope, no mercy — just beasts, not men.



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




A fragile veil — “civilization” thin,
Beneath, the shadows creep within.
Decay, a dark and silent hymn,
Where souls are lost, and lights grow dim.

Infernal whispers claw the night,
Minds consumed by endless blight.
They weave their spells, a cursed thread,
Binding the living to the dead.

A death march cloaked in hollow guise,
The spirit’s flame, it slowly dies.
Led blindfolded through the veil,
To endless dark — no holy grail.



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




Beneath the fragile skin of “civilization’s” guise,
A hidden void where shadowed essence lies.
Decay seeps slow through cosmic veins,
Where spirit wrestles ancient chains.

Silent chants from realms unseen,
Bind the soul in webs between —
The waking world and depths below,
Where light and darkness ebb and flow.

A spiral dance of death and birth,
Unseen forces shape the earth.
Blind we march, the veils descend,
Toward the void where cycles end.



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



The End...

Tolerance turned twisted vice,
Perverse “norms” that spread like lice.
Fools enslaved by evil’s might,
******* breathing lies, not light.

No more bounds to sell-out’s reign —
Hell unleashed in dark domain.
Betrayal cloaked in “science”’s veil,
Spewing madness, wild and frail.

Half-truths passed, the rotten phase,
Gone beyond in insane haze.
The crowd whipped up — wild, unwise,
Sheep led blind with vacant eyes.

A virus of the sheep’s brigade,
War games played by Swab’s charade —
From the box, a rotten seal,
Final stage begins to peel.

The end is here — to purge the blight,
Of evil’s spawn and slaves of night.
Earth shall cleanse its tainted shore,
Lies will drown and plague no more.



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



The Pasture

In a world so bleak, the ties are weak —
Family, dens, friends doomed to shriek.
Yet ruling all are **** elite,
Who tell the odd to just endure defeat.

They bear it all with dull obedience,
Chains disguised as trivial needs' convenience.
Became the sheep, without a fight,
Marching to slaughter — no more light.

No need for weapons — screens command,
Driving herds with fear and lies at hand.
Enclosures turn to camps of dread,
Souls turned to dust — the pasture's spread.



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


The Talker

The Talker’s twin — a rare bird seen,
Unknown in history’s grim machine.
To guard the **** — the world’s demand,
Lest awful fiends retake the land.

A filthy actor in a cage,
Brought out to mouth his scripted rage.
The people — children craving lies,
Who choose to drown in fairy-tale skies.

That filthy pack decreed their fate,
The Kremlin’s brood, a cruel state.
Lies grow louder, bold and vile,
This clown just laughs, a sickening bile.



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



Schematic Minds and Critical Sight

The schematics of the mind cry out so loud,
Few paths remain to truths beyond the cloud.
It builds just “heavenly groves” so falsely bright
In this Inferno of the insane’s blight.

A mass of lies as “foundation” set—
These demons fool us, trap us in their net.
We stand upon the edge of spirit’s death,
Where worldwide fascism draws its breath.

But this global fascism’s not a fiend with guns,
It’s neighbors, coworkers—madman runs,
Brewing slow in crooked worlds that spin,
Where “facts” come from a **** of sin.

Propaganda, “science,” schooling’s lie,
A fist that strikes, and all comply.
Like sheep we march to slaughter’s call,
While running hamster wheels, trapped in the thrall.

So boldly trust your gut, be sharp, be wise,
Or in these falsehoods your spirit dies.
A pitiful self shaped by the lies’ embrace,
For everywhere reigns deceit’s cold face.



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



Self-Knowing

“Light” and DARKNESS drive one mad,
If you don’t see through on your own:
So much crap that’s been writ bad
By a ******* all alone.

Gullibility’s a heavy sin—
Turn your gut sense on to win!
Success will come if you don’t bite
Darkness’ “heaven” in the night.

That success is knowing dark—
Then LIGHT will find your searching heart.
Only minds that stay pristine
Let the Light break through the screen.

Madness reigns all round about,
So cleanse your mind—there’s no doubt.
Don’t drift off midst anxious thought—
Spot the sparks that Light has brought.

This Light lives always deep inside,
Outside, just its fleeting tide.
The world won’t wait for dawn to rise—
Beasts drown all truth in lies.

War and CowID have shown
How low this filth has grown.
They’ve reached the very bottom pit—
All else is oily worded grit.

But Knowledge is beyond mere speech—
Super-yoga’s goal to reach.
Avoid the fools and their lore,
Their theories **** the mind’s core.

These theories come from Hell,
Paid by Satan’s crafty spell.
They’ll lie more to break the floor,
Drag us all down to the core.

For words are beasts’ mighty power—
With them they wage the darkest war.

But what’s beyond the spoken spell
Is where the Soul’s true Alchemy dwells.
Don’t walk the Goat’s dark, crooked road—
Rush instead to Spirit’s abode!



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



The Path of Inner Knowing

Light and Darkness weave their snare,
Madness lurks if you don’t dare
Pierce the veil alone, to see
Truth beyond what’s forced to be.

Innocence is shattered sin—
Trust your pulse, the spark within!
Only those who don’t succumb
Will escape the shadow’s drum.

Darkness first must be embraced,
Only then is Light traced.
Pure minds open gates unseen,
Where Spirit dwells — eternal, keen.

Mad worlds howl with fractured cries,
Cleanse your mind, strip off the lies.
Amidst the chaos, still discern
Flashing sparks where soul can burn.

This Light, a fire deep inside,
Flickers past the worldly tide.
No dawn waits for those who drown
In the mud where fiends wear crowns.

War and plague have stripped the skin,
Revealing depths of shadow’s grin.
The abyss, where words run dry,
Speaks the truth that cannot lie.

True Knowing moves beyond the speech,
Yogic realms within your reach.
Turn away from hollow sheep,
Their lore is death; the mind, a heap.

These whispers come from darkest pits,
Paid by those who conjure myths.
Their lies crack worlds, and pull us down,
Dragging all to fate’s dark crown.

For words are chains, the tyrant’s tools,
Binding souls, creating fools.

But beyond that silent throne
Dwells the alchemy unknown.
Shun the goat’s crooked, cursed way—
Seek the Spirit’s light, the Day.



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



Self-Knowing

Light and Darkness twist the mind astray,
Unless you pierce their veils alone, you’ll stray:
The world is writ with lies—a venomed tome,
By hands corrupt, who claim to guide you home.

Gullibility — a sin that chains the soul;
Ignite your inner spark, reclaim control!
Success awaits not in the darkened snare,
But where the purest minds embrace the flare.

This Light resides within, a sacred fire,
Though shadows dance and tempt with false desire.
The world awaits no dawn — beasts drown in grime,
Yet war and plague have marked this cursed time.

In filth profound, the bottom’s cold and bare,
All else is gilded words — a hollow snare.
True Knowing lies beyond the tongue and speech —
A yogic path where mortal bounds beseech.

Beware the fools and prophets bought with gold,
Their twisted tales leave Wisdom cold and old.
Their words, a shroud to hide the deepest pit,
To drag the souls who seek beyond their writ.

Beyond all words — beyond the tyrant’s reign,
Awaits the alchemy of soul’s domain.
Forsake the goat’s dark path, ascend in grace —
To Spirit’s spheres — the sacred, boundless space!



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



The Path of Self-Knowing

Light and Darkness — twin serpents coiled within the mind,
Their hiss entwines the seeker lost, who fails to find
The thread of truth amid the endless, shadowed maze,
Where lies like poison drip and twist through endless days.

From ancient halls of wisdom’s crypt, the heralds speak:
“Beware the guile that softens hearts and makes them weak.
Ignite the flame — the sacred spark of inner sight,
Lest blinded souls embrace the darkness as their light.”

The sin of trust — a heavy chain that binds the soul,
But intuition’s voice can break the tyrant’s hold.
To walk the night is not to fall, but to ascend,
Where minds as pure as crystal through the dark transcend.

The Light dwells deep — a flame beyond the mortal veil,
Though outer worlds be drowned in chaos, lies, and pale
Reflections of the truth, corrupted, stained by strife,
The cosmos waits for those who seek the inner life.

War’s smoke and plague’s cold breath have marked the cursed age,
The filth beneath the surface hides the prophet’s cage.
Words empty as the wind — they haunt the halls of men,
Yet true enlightenment lies far beyond their ken.

The sacred path — a yogic flight beyond the tongue,
Where silence sings and boundless mysteries are sung.
Beware the charlatans who trade in false disguise,
Their silver tongues conceal the pit beneath the skies.

Their tales a shroud, their lies a veil to hide the deep,
They seek to drag the earnest down where shadows creep.
But those who dare to pierce the veil and walk alone,
Shall find the soul’s true flame — a light forever known.

Beyond all words, beyond the grasp of tyrant’s chain,
There lies the alchemy where spirit shall regain
Its throne — a realm where time dissolves in endless space,
And every soul returns to its eternal place.

Forsake the goat’s dark path of chaos and despair,
Ascend the sacred spheres, the boundless realms of air.
The Spirit calls beyond the veil of mortal strife,
To dance in cosmic fires and know eternal life.

So heed the call, brave seeker, cast aside the night,
Embrace the dawn within — the pure, transcendent light.
For only those who walk the lonely, winding way
Can pierce the veil and bring the light to endless day.

— The End —