Storms and Dreams
I love the storm in heated Fall —
So much for "warming's" final call!
If you are sharp, awake, aware,
You’ll trash the BEASTS and all their glare.
The cows all ****, the plants all choke —
This world’s a gas-infested joke.
But if your mind is clear, not blind,
You’ll cut through dogma’s ties that bind.
You’ll see the Sun grow bold and bright,
Preparing for a searing rite —
To scorch all lies down to the bone
And burn this False World to the stone.
Yet if the Spiritual Man
Were not so rare, but led the clan,
He’d stand for Nature like a king,
And even calm the solar swing.
The Earth has called — the Sun replied,
Its blazing message cannot hide.
But why must all be turned to ash?
Let’s smash the LIES, not Earth, in clash.
That rot has poisoned field and sea,
And humans crawl like blight on tree.
While anti-humans rule the hive,
The Earth will cleanse — none left alive.
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Two-Legged Sheep
A sheep is bred for Doom and Death,
For cultured Ends, for Final Breath.
A brand-new type, by fate designed —
Its brain near-pulp, its soul declined.
The Ramnavirus made it plain:
This world has lost its twitching brain.
They’re building camps across the sphere
For all whose minds are still sincere.
If you're not sick — prepare to die.
They'll craft a CowID to try
Outdoing past and future Hell —
Death dressed in white — a doc as well.
He stabs you with a poison lie
While Evil’s howling from the sky.
And fools — they cheer, believe the swine.
But now the fool's an old design:
The "sheepman" is the brand-new freak —
Submissive, blind, corrupt, and weak.
Will higher powers watch this farce?
This mad world worships Satan's ****.
Yes, he’s the god now, drenched in slime,
Ruling this age of filth and crime.
The sheep revolt? No — not a chance.
So let’s just smirk… as MADNESS DANCE.
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A world of sheep — no soul, no clue.
The doc’s in white — the end comes too.
They cheer the camp, they love the chain.
And Satan smiles… through sheepish brain.
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Light in the Dark
Gleams of Light —
Not a stream:
Song is sung,
Now comes the Dream...
Storm is rising —
Dark and deep.
Crowds await
Their "happy sleep."
Was the song
For them designed?
What a waste —
The deaf, the blind.
They won't feel it,
Won't awake —
On their knees
For "manna" fake.
Sing your truth
To just a few,
Call them forth
Through twilight blue.
Lead them past
The darkened veil —
Mind won’t grasp
What lights prevail.
Let your inner sense arise —
Light’s flare is a glimpse of skies.
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The Light won’t flood a world so blind —
It sparks for those who seek and find.
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The Net and the Zombie Box
Today I watch TV with glee —
This puke connects me to my "free"
And mighty homeland, drunk and dazed,
Still mourning Spirit it erased.
It drank itself into a grave,
Once wise — now proudly soul-depraved.
I’ll watch again — the rot, the trend,
Grows funnier… for poems to bend.
The zombie box? A vile parade —
Yet perfect source for truth displayed.
Hell’s broadcast in its rawest stream:
Each meme’s a monster’s mocking dream.
CowID was a circus act,
Broadcast on loop — no sense, no tact.
One gulp of that and you might drown,
Like minds gone rotten all around.
Just kidding, though — I never stare
At zombie screens. I’m more aware.
Reflections from the sheep online
Are more than enough for every line.
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TV’s a sewer, spewing lies —
But in the Net, the stench still flies.
The herd repeats it all by rote —
And that’s the "truth" they love to quote.
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Strangled by Memory, the Mind Must Die
"The most vital knowledge is the art of forgetting the useless."
— Antisthenes, 4th century BCE
Forget the useless! Toss it out!
How much crap they pour about
In youth — with strain and stiff decree —
Straight from Bedlam's ministry.
Memory overload — beware!
It murders thought beyond repair.
They “teach” with tons of reeking trash,
Till minds collapse in one loud crash.
This isn’t chance — it’s by design:
To **** the mind, by slow decline.
They swap your thoughts for toxic streams
And run your life through broken dreams.
The creatures lie — through work, through news.
In Mary's World of Twisted Views,
Deception's fine-tuned to the core —
They fake it better than before.
For ages long, their scheme's the same:
Plant fictions deep — then shift the blame.
The idiot in mental chains
Is easier to lock than brains.
He cannot think — so can’t perceive
The monstrous lies that make him grieve.
But call him “free”? He swells with pride,
While truth is mocked and pushed aside.
Forget the useless — hear your Soul!
It holds the key, the map, the goal.
And if you dare — with mind intact —
You’ll find the path they want you lacked.
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Forget their junk — reclaim your mind.
The path to truth leaves lies behind.
Think clear — and all their fake design
Falls dead beneath your inner sign.
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Consumption and Mass “Culture”
Main course, please! Bring out the herring,
Sausage, bacon — load the plate!
Pour some *****, keep it daring —
Drown the country in that state.
Gorge and chug — the proud ambition
Of the masses, dumb and proud.
Hence the chains and the submission —
Everything else gets disavowed.
***, “education,” faith — all twisted
To amuse and numb the brain.
Learn to grab what’s most delicious,
Skip the soul, pursue the gain.
Gobble down those rare sensations,
Shun excess — keep lies intact.
Lying well ensures your station —
It’s the top-consumer’s pact.
Lie with skill — and you’re ascending.
Truth? Just dead weight on the climb.
What you sell means more than meaning —
Emptiness becomes the prime.
Empty heads and zombie stations —
That’s the peak of culture now.
But this Hell of simulations
Won’t deceive us — not somehow.
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They feed on lies and call it grace —
The mass “culture” is a feeding place.
But those not drunk on screen and plate
Still see through all that crafted fate.
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So Bored, So Broken...
It’s boring now. It’s grim, it’s dead —
No more themes left to be said.
Worthy souls are rare as air...
Is it time to leave? — Who'd care?
Fools still swarm with base desires:
Breed and binge, then stoke their fires.
All this mess was made for It —
Born to gulp and breed and sit.
Years decay — the sane are few.
Don’t regret what you must do.
To linger here, mid mutant spawn —
Is death by boredom, drawn and drawn.
Worse than Misha’s fate, I’d say.
Our world shrinks more every day.
Trapped in trivia, caught in debt —
Tiny hooks, and tighter net.
The creatures lace us up with fluff,
Their petty lies — a steaming bluff.
Fascists shout from holy spires,
Spewing filth as sacred choirs.
All’s infected. Mind and Soul
Show the rot — a deeper hole.
Not a scratch, but sarcoma’s thread:
No bright years — just walking dead.
The House of Fools is overgrown —
The creatures **** to guard their throne.
War, CowID, and hunger’s call —
The fool obeys — and that's it all.
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No heroes left, no fight to start —
Just mutants bred with soulless heart.
The fool obeys. The world’s insane.
There’s nothing left... but dirt and pain.
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Disillusionment
Be disillusioned — crush your fear.
Be done with lies that rule you here.
Cling to nothing — it’s all dust.
Why rot among these masks of rust?
Disillusion — your first stride
Toward the Truth they’ve tried to hide.
Shake off this shameful, clinging crust —
Your mind’s a haze, your thoughts unjust.
Only then you’ll break the chain
That drags your Spirit down in pain
Into the hell where Thought is torn,
Where Soul is mocked, and Fear is born.
Sharpen instinct, strengthen sight,
Let your Spirit lead the fight!
Wage your war on global lies —
It’s not just you that Truth revives.
The root of spell is charm and trance —
A curse that keeps us in a dance
Of dumbing-down and blind retreat
In madhouse worlds made for the meat.
Smash the fascism — or it kills.
Live off-grid, outside their drills.
Man’s no longer free — he’s bought.
A slave no more — just labeled stock.
Need an example? — Muzzled face:
Their fake “plague” laid it all in place.
Where is Honor, Reason, Pride?
Truth is drowned in fascist tide.
So fight and rise — your Soul’s at stake!
Find the wise ones. Bonds to make.
**** this fascist global beast!
Stand for truth — or be deceased.
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Disillusion — break the chain.
See the spell, reject the brain.
Soul won’t live in fear and lies —
So rise, or rot as Spirit dies.
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The Dagger
The thirst for Truth, the drive to be,
And longing for true Liberty —
These two foundations, firm and raw,
Define your nature's deepest law.
But one alone will never guide
The flame of talent deep inside.
Without both sight and inner spark,
You’ll stumble, groping in the dark.
For every "giant" of the mind
Needs keen critique, and senses fine —
Let intuition lead your way,
And forge your Self without delay.
Unite the Soul, the Mind, the Will —
A molten blade of sharpened skill.
For only through creative fire
You touch the light that won’t expire.
The Spirit knows no full retreat
When chasing truth through cold defeat.
So seek! Defy! Be bold! Be true —
Only the master breaks right through.
That mastery begins as quest —
A search for paths that free the best.
But intellect, without the Soul,
Will rot, and never reach the goal.
So forge yourself — a dagger bright,
With Spirit core and Reason’s bite.
And strike the Beast, the soulless Thing —
It’s simple. Cut. And end its sting.
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A soul-forged blade, a sharpened mind —
That’s how the Beast gets left behind.
No lies, no leash, no gilded chain —
Just one clean cut — through mask and brain.
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Tensions
"The 'I' is built from moments of inner strain.
When those dissolve — the 'I' is gone,
and only true emptiness remains."
— Katsuki Sekida
Release the strain — and you’ll see clear.
Till then, you're just a fool, my dear.
You've crawled through lies with choking breath,
A walking ghost — half-dead to death.
Strain is born where lies reside,
Where fear and murk infest the mind.
That’s how the BEASTS destroy the bright —
Pure thought gets slaughtered in that fight.
But once the clutch of lies is gone,
The grasping ends, illusion’s drawn —
You’re not a lamb led off to die,
But One Who Walks. You ask: “Where? Why?”
Out of Hell — that’s where you go.
EMPTINESS — the path to flow.
Rare it is, like sacred breath —
When you break from herds of death.
Masses dumb, diseased and blind —
If you escaped, don’t look behind.
At first, no god you’ll find in space —
He’s risen far beyond this place.
Strain is ego, clenched and tight —
It births the rot, distorts the Light.
This world of filth and sold-out things
Will fall — it breaks on ego’s wings.
But what of those who break and go?
We’ll see, in time — don’t fear the flow.
Leave this garbage world behind —
Ahead, a Spark begins to shine.
Go within — let that be known:
Your intuition carves the stone.
Let your insight shred and tear
The LIES the creatures plant in there.
Lies in you — yes, more than few.
So clean your soul — let truth break through.
Let EMPTINESS be born inside —
From that, your Self will rise with pride.
Rebirth in Hell — the only way
To tear the iron gates away.
Delay, and you become the swine —
So charge, with fire, through their line!
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Strain is ego. Drop the weight.
Emptiness will liberate.
In the dark, let soul ignite —
And blast straight through into the Light.
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An Insured Case
An insured case —
A pension in Ugliness,
Called a country.
Simple as a guess:
A genocide prolonged,
Stretching through the ages.
Yet the “blessed folk” —
Are fools on empty stages.
Easy to rule fools —
Promise what you will.
Happiness far off —
A path forged by a devil.
The devil’s president,
King or other dunce.
A cop controls the media —
Like a hammer’s punch.
That hammer strikes
The mind with brutal force —
Lies nonstop —
The dull believe the source.
To live for truth —
Is sin in Ugliness.
The law — oppress
The mind, the nobleness.
An insured case —
A world decaying fast:
Head sick,
Soon led to slaughter’s past.
CowID revealed
The beast’s dark, snarling face.
If not yet crushed,
End with a swan’s grace.
Close the door with thunder —
That’s the answer to the horror
Of a world beneath the Beast’s sway,
Where darkness holds its law.
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A world sick, ruled by lies and pain —
The Beast’s grip tightens like a chain.
But slam the door, make silence loud —
Resist the dark, refuse the crowd.
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Dualistic Thinking
Dualistic thought can’t grasp this world:
It casts a shadow, flags unfurled,
Where sorting lines become a god —
And truth gets chained, suppressed, and flawed.
Cause and effect stand firm as stone,
Yet beasts and **** rule thrones unknown.
Their vision’s black and white, so crude —
What’s unseen simply eludes.
No tool can bring the near or far,
Introspection’s where the answers are:
What’s Soul? What’s Mind? The subtle quest
Beyond the mind’s verbose unrest.
A world of verbal diarrhea,
Its peak — the dullest, darkest idea:
Good and Evil, dual poles,
Where crocodiles outclass the foals.
No cynicism? You won’t survive —
Not sane, if you’re not sharp and live.
Most fools abound; dualism fails,
Though poets reshape words in tales.
Between the words lie gaps of fire,
And passion flows in rhythmic wire.
No words suffice, no joke, no play,
To frame the complex in full display.
But direct Vision knows no words —
Its depths outpace a thousand birds.
Intuition stands your guard,
Reducing lies and falsehoods hard.
Return to roots: the Spirit leads,
The Mind’s but servant to its deeds.
Then mind’s no fractured mosaic —
It fears no storm, no logic break.
---------------------
Dual thought blinds — it cuts in black and white.
But Spirit’s flame reveals the light.
Mind serves Soul — in unity,
Fearless in infinity.
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The Enemy’s Image
"Don’t retreat, don’t ever yield," —
A battle cry the dull have sealed.
The mindless herd, whose cruel game
Mocks common sense without a shame.
They lead us to the fight, the grind —
But build their prisons in our mind.
The "enemy" is set by them:
A mirror warped, a twisted gem.
They’ll find a dozen traits to blame,
To stain the “us” and fan the flame.
No quirks allowed, no strange dissent —
Division grows, their lies cement.
That propaganda fuels the war,
Painting foes as poor and poor.
Thus beasts rule fools with slight disguise,
Just changing methods, but the lies.
---------------------
The enemy’s a twisted mask —
Designed to serve the tyrant’s task.
Divide and rule — the beasts proclaim,
And fools obey their endless game.
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Rot from a Fool
Pinocchio crafts his Pinocchietta,
Wood once firm — now dust and fret-a.
They turn a man to lowly beast,
A clinical fool, the dullest least.
Entropy grows with every round,
Decay is nearing, creeping sound.
This world is sick with fatal curse —
Idiot’s plague, but none disperse.
Fools feel better in madhouse halls,
That madhouse — global — where all falls.
And Spirituality lies comatose,
The Spirit’s doomed if mind’s morose.
But all this rot will fuel the fire,
When rot itself becomes much higher.
Papa Carlo, dumb as cork,
Once dared to carve a fool’s fork.
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From fools comes rot, decay, and dust —
Yet rot can blaze if sparked by trust.
The fool’s own doom, a twisted jest —
Made by the fool who built the rest.
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Cotton Wool
In Germany’s dark war-time years,
No one was called a filthy fascist here.
But Cotton Wool’s long lost its mind —
Quoting “Mein Kampf,” and Goebbels’ kind,
Twisting words to spread the hate,
A fiery poison, seed of fate.
One half-leader rules the show —
And lies grow bolder as they grow.
Cotton Wool, simply put, is broke —
A fool’s fortress, fascism’s yoke.
Some of them fascists true and raw —
Could teach the Führer’s twisted law.
Yet German folk, more sharp and bright,
Outpaced these fools trapped in their blight.
History’s farce returns again —
The cotton crowd’s enslaved to pain.
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Cotton Wool’s lost sense and brain —
Spreading hate and fascist stain.
Once proud, now fools who blindly kneel —
To darkness, lies, and iron heel.
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Reincarnation of the Tachanka
The tachanka’s ghost revives the dread
Of orcs who flee where tanks would tread.
Where armor stalls and battle wanes,
A jeep with guns still holds the lanes.
The Rashist hordes in wild retreat —
Abandoning their broken fleet.
New tachankas bring their doom
To cursed fascism’s hateful gloom.
Makhno fought both Reds and Whites,
For freedom’s cause, his only right.
Ukrainians fight with fearless pride —
Their father’s song flows far and wide.
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When tanks slow down, the tachanka rides —
Fear sparks in fleeing fascist hides.
Freedom’s fire in every fight —
Ukraine’s sons defend the right.
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Armageddon Man
Stack your cash, think less each day,
Fortify your burrowed way.
Drink more, crunch your snacks with glee —
To hell with all that’s meant to be.
Forget the vows, the honor, shame,
Forget clear mind, forget the name.
Shed your burden — let “Councils” reign,
“Governments” will bear the pain.
Wipe out burdens, hard and grave...
But when disaster comes to save,
From those “Councils,” wrath will rise —
Sin’s atoned through End’s demise.
The End of History, global stage —
A total, fiery, final rage.
If fool today’s obedient pawn —
Your fate’s the end before the dawn.
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Drink, ignore, and build your den —
While fools await the end of men.
Armageddon’s burning call —
One fate awaits us all.
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The Yes-Man and the Patient One
The yes-man’s worn to bitter bone,
While patient ones are rock alone.
Trust in lies pressed hard like gas —
Now chaos rules, no turning back.
Here every madness finds its way,
Where once mere noodles hung to sway.
No sarcasm’s sharp enough
To sketch decline — the **** move rough:
Biobots must be turned to beasts
As fast as possible — no feasts.
Drain the global sludge away,
And pen the herds where they must stay.
No need for people — costly, slow —
Too much fuss, just let them go.
Turn humans into cattle, fiends,
And those who fight — end of scenes.
---------------------
Trust the lies, press hard the gas —
Turn minds to beasts, let reason pass.
Herd the fools, crush those who stand —
This is how they rule the land.
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Lies
Amidst the lies, it’s hard to find
The grains you need — so rare, so blind.
Without some luck, you dig and dig
Through empty rocks, a barren rig.
Divine intent must guide your way,
Or in the falsehood’s flood you’ll sway.
Half-truths, illusions, veils that bind —
At Judgment’s Day, you’re caught, confined.
Caught by lies — the nets are spread:
Propaganda’s poison thread,
“Science” sold by Judas’ hand,
“Education” built on sand.
Countless lies and wicked breeds,
All entwined in wicked deeds.
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Lies catch you in a deadly snare,
Truth’s grain is buried deep somewhere.
Without the light to guide your stride,
You’re just the bait the lies provide.
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Pinocchio as Beast
Time to turn Pinocchio
Into a bio-robot, cruel and low.
Just scare the logs till dumb they fall —
Once half-wits, now idiots all.
The dumbest logs must meet their fate,
While chips go in, to program state.
Pinocchio gave in, trapped and tight,
New Papa Carlo drugs the night.
You’ll become a perfect tool,
Spirit crushed, beneath the rule.
The new fascism’s strong and near —
They’ll march you to the “brave new sphere,”
A camp rebuilt, a hell on earth,
Where beasts command, and break all worth.
Satan’s era soon will reign —
The age of horrors and of pain.
No limit to this idiot’s breed —
“New man” will be the filth, indeed.
So trash them all, the **** and slime —
Remove this blight from Earth in time.
It’s coming — cataclysms sweep,
To purge the filth that lies too deep.
Let these fiends shriek lies in vain —
Darkness falls, no dirt remains.
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Pinocchio’s lost, a beast in chains,
The new fascism’s fiery reign.
Spirit crushed, the earth will purge —
Lies fall, the darkness will submerge.
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Kremlin Fascism
Fascism plus fools — a force so vast.
But when **** loots the dumb and last,
Putler’s no ****** — strength’s not there
To bring the world its fatal snare.
That Kremlin clone, all rotten minds —
A stench that flows through darkened times.
Come down, you ****, off Kremlin’s throne,
Your masters fall — left to bemoan.
Genocide may run its course,
But fools are trash without the source.
Fascism needs a steady plan,
Or all their schemes will fall, and
Attacks without a clever brain
Will stall and fail, just cause more pain.
Down with the dull and senseless crew!
We’ll crown new fascists, old and new —
And horror screams like days gone past,
When Chekists ruled with iron grasp.
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Fools plus fascists, rotten core —
Putler’s weak, can’t wage full war.
Without a plan, the attack will fail —
New fascists rise, the nightmare’s tale.
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February’s Scoundrel
“February. Ink to weep and cry,
Write of February’s breaking sky,
While slush and roar in cold dismay,
Burn black as spring fades far away.”
— Boris Pasternak, 1912
Our scoundrel: turn on TV, weep —
Our Führer’s fierce, his grip runs deep.
A mastermind who drives the orcs
To charge with brutal, ruthless force.
“Three days — then Kiev,” slyly spun,
He stretched the months — the dog undone.
“******,” that cursed, fierce beast,
The noose he tightened, never ceased.
The noose slips down, the people crushed,
Russia’s folk squeezed, hope turned to dust.
****** stunned — kings and false saints fall,
His double left no throne at all.
A titan in this tragic play,
Bearing “values,” striking the West’s sway.
If you don’t bow, you’re doomed, erased —
A threat to bonds he’s sworn to brace.
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Turn on the screen — the scoundrel’s there,
Leading orcs with ruthless flair.
The noose tightens, hope’s grown thin —
February’s dark lies begin.
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Meowing Cats, Talking Sheep, and Komodo Propagandists
The Dao of “Meow” from sheepish herds,
Stinks and fumes in countless words.
Varans many, loud and crude —
Komodo lizards spread the feud.
Poisoned spit sprays on the sheep,
Hybrid wars run dark and deep.
Once poisoned, sheep march to the ****,
Wounded by their masters’ will.
Be a cat — meow loud and free,
Live apart, your own decree.
For sheep, such fate is grim and stark —
No war, no poison, no false mark.
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Cats just meow, while sheep obey —
Komodo lies lead them astray.
Stay a cat, live free, apart —
Avoid the poison, guard your heart.
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Hotbed of Evil
Like “Hippocratic Oath” they claim,
And everywhere “democrats” the same.
Hard to write without a curse —
Lies, fascism, degenerates worse.
**** and wars, the mess we’ve earned,
Though no peace, but boils that burned.
Like a python, **** lie still,
Crushing all by ruthless will.
Only the strong hold the reign,
Schemes arise, a twisted game.
Left sector, right — all sell their soul,
No one here plays a decent role.
No barriers for fascist schemes,
Idiocy rules, shattering dreams.
Less tragedy, more fools’ parade —
Masks of grief are just a charade.
What we face is no tragic play —
It’s muzzles tight, night’s foul display.
Hotbed of Evil in full bloom,
If you endure — you share the gloom.
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Lies and hate breed everywhere —
Evil’s garden, foul despair.
Muzzle up or speak your mind —
Endure the dark, or break the bind.
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Sinking Rot
A colossus stands on clay-made feet —
This world beneath the moon’s defeat.
Dark fascism thick and deep,
And creeping dumbness crushes steep.
Two-thirds are fools, the blame is theirs —
These logs approve all evil snares.
The lice devour all, farewell, Earth’s grace,
As **** corrupts this sacred place.
Lice are beasts, no humans here —
Satan wears masks, even “communism’s” sneer.
Lies have swallowed all we knew —
No world remains, just rotten stew.
No poison worse than lies so vast.
Multiply them quick and fast,
And madness grows beyond control,
Any command fulfilled in whole.
For fools abound in greatest throng,
No whining helps, no right from wrong.
Repentance fails — the truth’s undone —
The world drowns in this web of ****.
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A world of clay, on rotten feet,
Where lies and fools and **** all meet.
No hope remains, the rot runs deep —
The Earth drowns fast, too blind to keep.
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May’s October Child
I walk through May’s own days,
Though it’s October’s haze —
Shedding lies and fear
In this cursed lair.
This world’s become a den,
And rightly so, my friend,
For bowed beneath the dread
Of that pestilent spread.
But June will never come —
The doom’s not far from home:
All filth will fade away,
If Spirit’s gone astray.
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Walking May in October’s chill,
Lies and fear I fight with will.
The world’s a den, the end’s in sight —
Spirit fades, succumbs to night.
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So-Called "Mobilization"
Prepping the “meat”:
Office plankton fleet,
Straight “past the cash desk,”
To war — no retreat!
Meat turns into mince,
The “cash desk” will burn.
Marching straight to Hell —
If reason won’t turn.
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Meat for war, they herd and send,
Reason lost, the march won’t end.
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Orcs Hiding in Their Holes
Orcs were made to beat and break,
Born of lies, for pain’s own sake.
Step outside your filthy den —
Get a beating once again!
Doubt the Gnome who rules that place,
You’ll get crushed without a trace.
That foul beast holds cruel reign,
Slaves the orcs in endless pain.
Lies justify his cruel hand —
“Love,” he claims, to rule the land.
Orcs all hide inside their holes,
Feeding on deceitful goals.
Yet the beatings never cease —
Gnome and Satan share their lease.
This harsh torment has no end —
Orcs will fall by fiend’s command.
---------------------
Orcs in holes, whipped and bound,
Gnome’s lies keep them down.
Beatings endless, shadows grow —
Power corrupts, the fiends will sow.
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Monkey Logic
Monkey logic, built on "yes" or "no,"
Simply "fight" or "flee" when dangers grow.
In minds so pitiful, these chains are tight —
No need for prisons, courts, or whip’s bite.
Reality flows as a single stream —
Don’t tear it apart, don’t break the dream.
Else you’ll become just beastly prey,
Led to slaughter, thrown away.
When “fight or flight” is all they know,
You scare the herd — to pens they go!
This world is ruled by fascist grime,
By inhuman beasts who cheat through time.
Spiritual Essence in the One Flow lies,
Where time’s illusion fades and Light will rise.
True humans, semi-gods at core,
Division breeds the artificial war.
Look all around — who do you see?
Eyes dimmed, minds dulled, spirits flee.
Hate that foul fascist spawn,
Curse the fiends who do us wrong.
But that’s not enough — go deep within,
There answers lie — ignite, begin!
The mad world’s song is nearly done —
A dawn of Reason has begun.
This Hell will burn — the Spirit’s way,
The only path to a new day.
Cast off the wretched “necessity,”
Pure Spirit alone is your key.
---------------------
Monkey logic chains the mind,
Fight or flee, no truth to find.
But Spirit flows in Light’s embrace —
Break the chains, reclaim your place.
---------------------
Dumb Lies Crawl
Dumb lies crawl like lava flows
From volcanic fiery throes.
You keep feeding lies unbound —
They’ll reach the ocean’s deepest ground.
Consciousness — an ocean vast.
When its bottom’s reached at last,
Peoples of all fake-made lands
Turn to filth by wicked hands.
The “Sheep-virus” showed the power
Of lies that in the darkest hour
Will conquer minds — then you’re done:
Faster bullets, shells will run.
A war declared on all of us —
By fiends insane, delirious,
In schizophrenia’s grip,
No end to their dark leadership.
For fools, no light will shine, no more —
Trash will dump them to the floor.
But soon the tyrants’ reign will cease,
Their falsehoods shattered, no more peace.
That volcano will explode,
Its wreckage covers all the road.
Slaves from all dumb nations fall,
With masters doomed to their own pall.
For those with reason, through the death
A passage leads to worlds refreshed.
The Sun will burst — the earth will shake —
The living step into the wake of Light awake...
