I weep for Adonais—he is dead!
O, weep for Adonais! though our tears
Thaw not the frost which binds so dear a head!
And thou, sad Hour, selected from all years
To mourn our loss, rouse thy obscure compeers,
And teach them thine own sorrow, say: “With me
Died Adonais; till the Future dares
Forget the Past, his fate and fame shall be
An echo and a light unto eternity!”

Where wert thou, mighty Mother, when he lay,
When thy Son lay, pierced by the shaft which flies
In darkness? where was lorn Urania
When Adonais died? With veiled eyes,
Mid listening Echoes, in her Paradise
She sate, while one, with soft enamoured breath,
Rekindled all the fading melodies
With which, like flowers that mock the corse beneath,
He had adorned and hid the coming bulk of death.

O, weep for Adonais—he is dead!
Wake, melancholy Mother, wake and weep!
Yet wherefore? Quench within their burning bed
Thy fiery tears, and let thy loud heart keep
Like his, a mute and uncomplaining sleep;
For he is gone, where all things wise and fair
Descend;—oh, dream not that the amorous Deep
Will yet restore him to the vital air;
Death feeds on his mute voice, and laughs at our despair.

Most musical of mourners, weep again!
Lament anew, Urania!—He died,
Who was the Sire of an immortal strain,
Blind, old, and lonely, when his country’s pride,
The priest, the slave, and the liberticide
Trampled and mocked with many a loathed rite
Of lust and blood; he went, unterrified,
Into the gulf of death; but his clear Sprite
Yet reigns o’er earth; the third among the sons of light.

Most musical of mourners, weep anew!
Not all to that bright station dared to climb;
And happier they their happiness who knew,
Whose tapers yet burn through that night of time
In which suns perished; others more sublime,
Struck by the envious wrath of man or god,
Have sunk, extinct in their refulgent prime;
And some yet live, treading the thorny road
Which leads, through toil and hate, to Fame’s serene abode.

But now, thy youngest, dearest one, has perished—
The nursling of thy widowhood, who grew,
Like a pale flower by some sad maiden cherished,
And fed with true-love tears, instead of dew;
Most musical of mourners, weep anew!
Thy extreme hope, the loveliest and the last,
The bloom, whose petals nipped before they blew
Died on the promise of the fruit, is waste;
The broken lily lies—the storm is overpast.

To that high Capital, where kingly Death
Keeps his pale court in beauty and decay,
He came; and bought, with price of purest breath,
A grave among the eternal.—Come away!
Haste, while the vault of blue Italian day
Is yet his fitting charnel-roof! while still
He lies, as if in dewy sleep he lay;
Awake him not! surely he takes his fill
Of deep and liquid rest, forgetful of all ill.

He will awake no more, oh, never more!—
Within the twilight chamber spreads apace
The shadow of white Death, and at the door
Invisible Corruption waits to trace
His extreme way to her dim dwelling-place;
The eternal Hunger sits, but pity and awe
Soothe her pale rage, nor dares she to deface
So fair a prey, till darkness, and the law
Of change, shall o’er his sleep the mortal curtain draw.

O, weep for Adonais!—The quick Dreams,
The passion-winged Ministers of thought,
Who were his flocks, whom near the living streams
Of his young spirit he fed, and whom he taught
The love which was its music, wander not,—
Wander no more, from kindling brain to brain,
But droop there, whence they sprung; and mourn their lot
Round the cold heart, where, after their sweet pain,
They ne’er will gather strength, or find a home again.

And one with trembling hands clasps his cold head,
And fans him with her moonlight wings, and cries,
“Our love, our hope, our sorrow, is not dead;
See, on the silken fringe of his faint eyes,
Like dew upon a sleeping flower, there lies
A tear some Dream has loosened from his brain.”
Lost Angel of a ruined Paradise!
She knew not ’twas her own; as with no stain
She faded, like a cloud which had outwept its rain.

One from a lucid urn of starry dew
Washed his light limbs as if embalming them;
Another clipped her profuse locks, and threw
The wreath upon him, like an anadem,
Which frozen tears instead of pearls begem;
Another in her wilful grief would break
Her bow and winged reeds, as if to stem
A greater loss with one which was more weak;
And dull the barbed fire against his frozen cheek.

Another Splendour on his mouth alit,
That mouth, whence it was wont to draw the breath
Which gave it strength to pierce the guarded wit,
And pass into the panting heart beneath
With lightning and with music: the damp death
Quenched its caress upon his icy lips;
And, as a dying meteor stains a wreath
Of moonlight vapour, which the cold night clips,
It flushed through his pale limbs, and passed to its eclipse.

And others came… Desires and Adorations,
Winged Persuasions and veiled Destinies,
Splendours, and Glooms, and glimmering Incarnations
Of hopes and fears, and twilight Phantasies;
And Sorrow, with her family of Sighs,
And Pleasure, blind with tears, led by the gleam
Of her own dying smile instead of eyes,
Came in slow pomp;—the moving pomp might seem
Like pageantry of mist on an autumnal stream.

All he had loved, and moulded into thought,
From shape, and hue, and odour, and sweet sound,
Lamented Adonais. Morning sought
Her eastern watch-tower, and her hair unbound,
Wet with the tears which should adorn the ground,
Dimmed the aereal eyes that kindle day;
Afar the melancholy thunder moaned,
Pale Ocean in unquiet slumber lay,
And the wild Winds flew round, sobbing in their dismay.

Lost Echo sits amid the voiceless mountains,
And feeds her grief with his remembered lay,
And will no more reply to winds or fountains,
Or amorous birds perched on the young green spray,
Or herdsman’s horn, or bell at closing day;
Since she can mimic not his lips, more dear
Than those for whose disdain she pined away
Into a shadow of all sounds:—a drear
Murmur, between their songs, is all the woodmen hear.

Grief made the young Spring wild, and she threw down
Her kindling buds, as if she Autumn were,
Or they dead leaves; since her delight is flown,
For whom should she have waked the sullen year?
To Phoebus was not Hyacinth so dear
Nor to himself Narcissus, as to both
Thou, Adonais: wan they stand and sere
Amid the faint companions of their youth,
With dew all turned to tears; odour, to sighing ruth.

Thy spirit’s sister, the lorn nightingale
Mourns not her mate with such melodious pain;
Not so the eagle, who like thee could scale
Heaven, and could nourish in the sun’s domain
Her mighty youth with morning, doth complain,
Soaring and screaming round her empty nest,
As Albion wails for thee: the curse of Cain
Light on his head who pierced thy innocent breast,
And scared the angel soul that was its earthly guest!

Ah, woe is me! Winter is come and gone,
But grief returns with the revolving year;
The airs and streams renew their joyous tone;
The ants, the bees, the swallows reappear;
Fresh leaves and flowers deck the dead Season’s bier;
The amorous birds now pair in every brake,
And build their mossy homes in field and brere;
And the green lizard, and the golden snake,
Like unimprisoned flames, out of their trance awake.

Through wood and stream and field and hill and Ocean
A quickening life from the Earth’s heart has burst
As it has ever done, with change and motion,
From the great morning of the world when first
God dawned on Chaos; in its stream immersed,
The lamps of Heaven flash with a softer light;
All baser things pant with life’s sacred thirst;
Diffuse themselves; and spend in love’s delight
The beauty and the joy of their renewed might.

The leprous corpse, touched by this spirit tender,
Exhales itself in flowers of gentle breath;
Like incarnations of the stars, when splendour
Is changed to fragrance, they illumine death
And mock the merry worm that wakes beneath;
Nought we know, dies. Shall that alone which knows
Be as a sword consumed before the sheath
By sightless lightning?—the intense atom glows
A moment, then is quenched in a most cold repose.

Alas! that all we loved of him should be,
But for our grief, as if it had not been,
And grief itself be mortal! Woe is me!
Whence are we, and why are we? of what scene
The actors or spectators? Great and mean
Meet massed in death, who lends what life must borrow.
As long as skies are blue, and fields are green,
Evening must usher night, night urge the morrow,
Month follow month with woe, and year wake year to sorrow.

He will awake no more, oh, never more!
“Wake thou,” cried Misery, “childless Mother, rise
Out of thy sleep, and slake, in thy heart’s core,
A wound more fierce than his with tears and sighs.”
And all the Dreams that watched Urania’s eyes,
And all the Echoes whom their sister’s song
Had held in holy silence, cried: “Arise!”
Swift as a Thought by the snake Memory stung,
From her ambrosial rest the fading Splendour sprung.

She rose like an autumnal Night, that springs
Our of the East, and follows wild and drear
The golden Day, which, on eternal wings,
Even as a ghost abandoning a bier,
Had left the Earth a corpse. Sorrow and fear
So struck, so roused, so rapt Urania;
So saddened round her like an atmosphere
Of stormy mist; so swept her on her way
Even to the mournful place where Adonais lay.

Our of her secret Paradise she sped,
Through camps and cities rough with stone, and steel,
And human hearts, which to her aery tread
Yielding not, wounded the invisible
Palms of her tender feet where’er they fell:
And barbed tongues, and thoughts more sharp than they,
Rent the soft Form they never could repel,
Whose sacred blood, like the young tears of May,
Paved with eternal flowers that undeserving way.

In the death-chamber for a moment Death,
Shamed by the presence of that living Might,
Blushed to annihilation, and the breath
Revisited those lips, and Life’s pale light
Flashed through those limbs, so late her dear delight.
“Leave me not wild and drear and comfortless,
As silent lightning leaves the starless night!
Leave me not!” cried Urania: her distress
Roused Death: Death rose and smiled, and met her vain caress.

“‘Stay yet awhile! speak to me once again;
Kiss me, so long but as a kiss may live;
And in my heartless breast and burning brain
That word, that kiss, shall all thoughts else survive,
With food of saddest memory kept alive,
Now thou art dead, as if it were a part
Of thee, my Adonais! I would give
All that I am to be as thou now art!
But I am chained to Time, and cannot thence depart!

“O gentle child, beautiful as thou wert,
Why didst thou leave the trodden paths of men
Too soon, and with weak hands though mighty heart
Dare the unpastured dragon in his den?
Defenceless as thou wert, oh, where was then
Wisdom the mirrored shield, or scorn the spear?
Or hadst thou waited the full cycle, when
Thy spirit should have filled its crescent sphere,
The monsters of life’s waste had fled from thee like deer.

“The herded wolves, bold only to pursue;
The obscene ravens, clamorous o’er the dead;
The vultures to the conqueror’s banner true
Who feed where Desolation first has fed,
And whose wings rain contagion;—how they fled,
When, like Apollo, from his golden bow
The Pythian of the age one arrow sped
And smiled!—The spoilers tempt no second blow,
They fawn on the proud feet that spurn them lying low.

“The sun comes forth, and many reptiles spawn;
He sets, and each ephemeral insect then
Is gathered into death without a dawn,
And the immortal stars awake again;
So is it in the world of living men:
A godlike mind soars forth, in its delight
Making earth bare and veiling heaven, and when
It sinks, the swarms that dimmed or shared its light
Leave to its kindred lamps the spirit’s awful night.”

Thus ceased she: and the mountain shepherds came,
Their garlands sere, their magic mantles rent;
The Pilgrim of Eternity, whose fame
Over his living head like Heaven is bent,
An early but enduring monument,
Came, veiling all the lightnings of his song
In sorrow; from her wilds Irene sent
The sweetest lyrist of her saddest wrong,
And Love taught Grief to fall like music from his tongue.

Midst others of less note, came one frail Form,
A phantom among men; companionless
As the last cloud of an expiring storm
Whose thunder is its knell; he, as I guess,
Had gazed on Nature’s naked loveliness,
Actaeon-like, and now he fled astray
With feeble steps o’er the world’s wilderness,
And his own thoughts, along that rugged way,
Pursued, like raging hounds, their father and their prey.

A pardlike Spirit beautiful and swift—
A Love in desolation masked;—a Power
Girt round with weakness;—it can scarce uplift
The weight of the superincumbent hour;
It is a dying lamp, a falling shower,
A breaking billow;—even whilst we speak
Is it not broken? On the withering flower
The killing sun smiles brightly: on a cheek
The life can burn in blood, even while the heart may break.

His head was bound with pansies overblown,
And faded violets, white, and pied, and blue;
And a light spear topped with a cypress cone,
Round whose rude shaft dark ivy-tresses grew
Yet dripping with the forest’s noonday dew,
Vibrated, as the ever-beating heart
Shook the weak hand that grasped it; of that crew
He came the last, neglected and apart;
A herd-abandoned deer struck by the hunter’s dart.

All stood aloof, and at his partial moan
Smiled through their tears; well knew that gentle band
Who in another’s fate now wept his own,
As in the accents of an unknown land
He sung new sorrow; sad Urania scanned
The Stranger’s mien, and murmured: “Who art thou?”
He answered not, but with a sudden hand
Made bare his branded and ensanguined brow,
Which was like Cain’s or Christ’s—oh! that it should be so!

What softer voice is hushed over the dead?
Athwart what brow is that dark mantle thrown?
What form leans sadly o’er the white death-bed,
In mockery of monumental stone,
The heavy heart heaving without a moan?
If it be He, who, gentlest of the wise,
Taught, soothed, loved, honoured the departed one,
Let me not vex, with inharmonious sighs,
The silence of that heart’s accepted sacrifice.

Our Adonais has drunk poison—oh!
What deaf and viperous murderer could crown
Life’s early cup with such a draught of woe?
The nameless worm would now itself disown:
It felt, yet could escape, the magic tone
Whose prelude held all envy, hate, and wrong,
But what was howling in one breast alone,
Silent with expectation of the song,
Whose master’s hand is cold, whose silver lyre unstrung.

Live thou, whose infamy is not thy fame!
Live! fear no heavier chastisement from me,
Thou noteless blot on a remembered name!
But be thyself, and know thyself to be!
And ever at thy season be thou free
To spill the venom when thy fangs o’erflow:
Remorse and Self-contempt shall cling to thee;
Hot Shame shall burn upon thy secret brow,
And like a beaten hound tremble thou shalt—as now.

Nor let us weep that our delight is fled
Far from these carrion kites that scream below;
He wakes or sleeps with the enduring dead;
Thou canst not soar where he is sitting now—
Dust to the dust! but the pure spirit shall flow
Back to the burning fountain whence it came,
A portion of the Eternal, which must glow
Through time and change, unquenchably the same,
Whilst thy cold embers choke the sordid hearth of shame.

Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep—
He hath awakened from the dream of life—
’Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep
With phantoms an unprofitable strife,
And in mad trance, strike with our spirit’s knife
Invulnerable nothings.—We decay
Like corpses in a charnel; fear and grief
Convulse us and consume us day by day,
And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.

He has outsoared the shadow of our night;
Envy and calumny and hate and pain,
And that unrest which men miscall delight,
Can touch him not and torture not again;
From the contagion of the world’s slow stain
He is secure, and now can never mourn
A heart grown cold, a head grown grey in vain;
Nor, when the spirit’s self has ceased to burn,
With sparkless ashes load an unlamented urn.

He lives, he wakes—’tis Death is dead, not he;
Mourn not for Adonais.—Thou young Dawn,
Turn all thy dew to splendour, for from thee
The spirit thou lamentest is not gone;
Ye caverns and ye forests, cease to moan!
Cease, ye faint flowers and fountains, and thou Air
Which like a mourning veil

The silence spoke about a thousand words.
While the sentence caught up in their throat
While the words twisted in their tongue
The pause of not giving an answer, was the answer.
While the mind was unknowingly tinted
The eyes were what explained it all.
Arms became stiff and shoulders became tense.
Physical body language is a master manipulator.
A kiss should mean feelings but the heart was not one to beat for the other anymore.
The ears and brain did not coordinate anymore, when your name was called, their nerves didn't dance around at the speed of light.
It was a malfunction, an error.
It was signs of something shutting down.
You knew it was coming though.
The knowing of an end, while still being in the middle.
You knew, even when you didn't want to.
Even when they didn't.

Whatever made me think,
That settling would do,
Did you settle for me,
Like I settled for you.

We live as flatmates you and I.
I'm you cook and I'm your maid,
But this is the bed I've chosen,
And in it I am laid.

Our relationship it has no love,
No passion, no desire,
Was I really so naive,
To expect a sparkless fire.

Is it time for me to walk away,
Before it is too late,
To find the love this woman needs,
To start with a clean slate.

Oh how I wish that I could just,
Get up, walk out the door,
But duty, guilt and vanity,
Keep my here once more.

I pray someone will find me,
And give me what I need,
The strength and love to make the change,
To reclaim, what is me.

WOBBLE


My questions are no longer keen,
Small pebbles on the bottom line.
My senses bring flavors within,
They blow out my mind like a wine.

The river washes its ground bed
For many years going ahead.

I don'’t search, I don'’t wait, I don’t hope.

All tears left my memory stream,
A fire grows high from a dream.

The past is a white timeless night,
A blind moon forgetting to shine.
I still feel a cold flimsy light
So deep in this body still mine.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

OUR OLD HOUSE


Wandering most everywhere,
I passed once by that small creek,
Finding our old house there
Where I used to hide-and-seek.

I passed once by the small creek
Where wild grasses grew so tall,
And I looked over the wall.

Finding our old house there,
With gossamer nets as drapes
With my grandpa’'s sour grapes.

Where I used to hide and seek
All the trees were almost dried,
I looked back again and cried...


>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

INTUITION


Like a heart upon a stone,
Amber burning on a pyre,
Like the scent drilling to bone
On that painful, brilliant fire,

Like a walking on a wing,
Rustles waking up our ears,
Dreams forgotten every spring,
The beginning of all fears,

Like a truth in this time flight,
Finding in my palm foundation,
Which I held maybe too tight
To believe in its perfection.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A PAIR


She liked white roses in a vase,
Visiting art shops after school,
He liked sci-fi, boxing, sport cars,
Swimming each Monday in the pool.

They met one day while it was raining,
Shopping for hats on the main street,
And both of them were just complaining,
Because the colors were not fit.

He needed black, she wanted blue.
They saw each other in the mirror.
She smiled at once without a clue,
For she was not a conqueror.

They were engaged after a year:
She wearing blue with a black glove,
Cornflowers for the atmosphere,
Both with straw hats, vowing their love.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

THE STORM


A heavy cloud’s silence is shattered
Through every lightning shrilly blast,
Painful memories are scattered
Like night’s haunting blues from the past.

This time flight of questions and fears
Trims yesterday hopes’ flimsy wings.
My last open smile disappears,
An omen among other things :

A dark moon burns under my eyes,
Coating in ashes a blunt knife.
Red stars hide behind summer skies
Long, tedious and dull feelings' strife.

And if I abandon my dreams
Refusing to taste bitter dew,
Ignited by lost love, like gleams,
Tears grow within torches of rue.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

THE SAME SONG


So many dreams in Venice blurred,
Stars showing gondolas their way.
With sparkless eyes, a lonesome bird
Mourns quietly his love gone stray.

A lonely girl with shaggy hair
Walks all alone in St. Mark's Square.
Her memories dance under vaults
Along a gondolier's sad waltz.

Don’t peep into my mind
If you can.
Don’t dare.
Either
you’d be terrified
at the sight of such darkness,
sparkless it would be,
you’d find no analogy
to explain
you’d refrain
to even speak of it.
You’d run away from me,
imagining me as
a demon manifest
ending all quest
to know me any more
your mind would go sore
shaken would be your core.
You’d want me to not exist
you’d resist to face the fact
of finding my life intact
to find me yet as a part
of this universe
or multiverse.
You’d doubt your god
for his ways
for a thing
like me stays.

Don’t peep into my mind
If you can.
Don’t dare.
Or
you’d fall in love.

So here it goes

When I told you that I loved you,
I meant it... and maybe I still do?
I search for you in every boy I see
And I came to an understanding of what your type could be
Light eyes with a constant smile and a positive air
The kind of guy that could hug with no care
The kind of guy you could talk to with ease
And whose words are warm and soft like breeze
And that’s the trick
The *****-trap on which you trip

Curse you and that type of yours
That blinded me for years

Curse myself and my heart for falling too easy
I should’ve gave up and not be so greedy
Maybe then I would’ve seen the imperfection of your kind
And change the course of my mind

I wish that I could thank you
But it means a conversation and... that takes two

Oh, don’t worry, I know you’re too busy to spend your time on me
A hopeless girl like me can’t talk with you, and I agree

Honestly, I get it
And I’m glad we split
‘Cause you and me... we don’t fit

Although I saw a lot of things we share the same
But maybe it was only in my eyes... ‘cause I had a flame
You were sparkless when all I wanted was to burn
You shut my brain and I thought with that I’d learn

It’s not your fault, it’s all on me
I’m to blame for keeping my dreamless fantasy
You did nothing wrong
I just shouldn’t’ve kept pushing aimlesslly this long

I guess, maybe I scared you with being too honest
Maybe I’m the reason that you broke your promise

I’m sorry I tried to hold ‘nd tie you up
I’m sorry I followed you when you wanted to break up

So, can I let go of you now?
Because s-o-m-e-h-o-w
You’re still caught up in my heart
And I keep wishing my memories could restart
So that I can pretend
That it never started, that it began with an end

So, can I forget the numbers of your phone?
Can I, please, forget that time we spent alone?
I wish I could forget your name
I wish I could forget the person I became
I wish you and I... were never friends
Because,
            why let it start, when you know it ends?

I understand that we’ve lost... whatever it was that we once had
We were, as it goes, ‘slowly but surely’, falling apart

So here it goes

Burn To Turn
for a briefest, gilted
eternity, the trees
will burn not from
their crown
nor from their feet
and, despite the ice,
the sparkless space,
the cold steel
darts of insistent
slanting rains,
the trees will burn,
the trees will burn,
and all-at-once
the peripatetic sun,
it's whims having won,
will dance along
and share its breath
with everyone

The panic is building inside,
Making it feel like a rollercoaster ride.
I thought that I was happy,
But now unlocked feelings have set free,
Leaving me with inner conflict,
Unsure which direction to pick.
My stomach tightens at thought of action,
While my former strength loses traction,
One moment I want to flee,
The next moment I am proud to be.
What am I running from this time?
Would playing hookie be such a crime?
If it meant discovering this truth,
And abandoning this depressing sleuth.
I want to shake off this darkness,
Before I am left feeling sparkless.
I want to break down these walls,
Before another part of me falls,
Leaving me a shell of myself,
Hungry for knowledge and lacking wealth.
I must invite the light in,
So that this darkness will spin.
I still feel the rumble of panic,
Leaving my thoughts helpless and frantic,
Encouraging motivation to flee,
So I can be alone, and free.

Rooms filled with fire compelling the darkness,
burning on light, emptying the room. No
hearing or seeing or smelling, only
tasting the smoke of my friends burning, feeling
the flames licking my cheeks. The faint sound of
wood thudding into a skull reverberates
through me. So far away yet still here.
The light comes back to see the bodies
of loved ones falling, skulls caved in. Bones limp
and eyes sparkless. Dead. I hear laughter as
palms hover over candles, seething and melting
skin dripping from their hands, faces.
Mouths misshapen and crude, jagged,
cruel. Skin drained, white as bone, red eyes of blood
dripping with death. Your soft body approaches me.
All is calm and well until your body
merges with the rest of them and you condemn me
with eyes of rotting flesh.

Perhaps you are but a soul
In this world of sin and coal.
Your eyes are empty and cold
****** in this sparkless world.

Perhaps you are but a corpse
In this world without remorse.
Your life may have faded away
Long ago, you can't be certain.

Perhaps you are but a voice
In this world of deaf and coarse.
Your faith and hope are a collapse
Of the realm, but it's still... Just a perhaps.

Sparkless grit
presses under frostbit knuckles
not fire,
just the idea of heat
with its eyes shut.

I rest in the draftwork
of holding patterns,
where clocks twitch
but never commit.

Once
weather scored graffiti
down my backframe,
like a vandal too polite
to leave a name.
Now breath limps
blurred,
rattling through cracked syllables
that don’t know what they’re naming.

Tannin hums behind the teeth,
coiled like a riddle
no tongue can unwrap.

Velvet cords grip the throat
not tightly,
just enough
to remind me
I'm still leased
to something unseen.

The wind tastes like rusted lemon
split skin,
unbitten seconds,
ticking in citrus static.

I’m a jar
glaze peeled,
rim chipped,
still ringing
from hands that shaped and fled.

Then comes not-morning
just the choreographed blur
of cloth and chrome,
rituals that shine
but don’t touch.

Time turns its crank.
I nod.
I click.
I vanish for the hours.

And the dark?
It unbuttons itself
with fluent decay.
It wades in,
speaks in steam,
and folds me into its absence
not to ****,
but to remember me
the way embers remember
what they could have burned.

I wait
for endlessness,
or whatever arrives
five seconds too late

I

I stand alone beneath the shadow,
My heart is heavy, like a crossbow,
Silent tears begin to overflow,
In pain and loss, I’m left to grow

The night is dark, the winds do blow,
Whispers echo from long ago,
Memories sharp, like arrows throw,
Wounds that time will never slow

I load my soul with silent woe,
A burden only I can know,
Through broken dreams and ebbing glow,
I face the fight, no place to go.

Yet hope remains, a fragile glow,
Beyond the pain, the crossbow’s bow,
I’ll find my way, though slow and low,
To heal the scars and let tears flow.

II

My hands grow numb, the cold winds blow,
No strength to fight, no light to show,
I drop the bow, let silence grow,
The end is near - I feel it so.

I cast aside my crossbow's frame,
No war to win, no one to blame,
Just hollow breath and fading name,
And one last thought - a sparkless flame.

No cries remain, just quiet snow,
I close my eyes and let it go,
A final breath, a final blow,
And down I fall, so cold and slow.

Now earth shall keep what sky won’t know,
A soul once strong brought far too low,
A silent grave, no sound, no show -
Where once stood one with a crossbow.

Police State

The cop reports for duty, proud —
A servant to the soulless crowd:
To guard the sheep who drool and nod,
And crush the ones who won’t applaud.

But sheep are rare, a dying race —
Extinction stares them in the face.
The game is rigged, the end is near —
Just look at War and CowID fear.

Those tests? A filter, sharp and cruel,
For thugs and sadists, **** and fool.
Thus fascist ranks are swelling fast —
That "friendly cop" is in the past.

They're not police — they’re occupation.
The war was lost without citation.
Their bosses — local gauleiters grim,
While flags still flutter, proud and prim.

Unspoken war, but well advanced:
A global camp is being financed.
The chief betrayer takes the lead —
His local pawn just writes the screed.



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




They build a camp, but call it peace.
Your jailer smiles — your rights decrease.
The cop's no friend. The war is here.
Obey — or vanish in the smear.



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



"Search" Engines

You type "Igor" — ****, and bam! —
Up pops Strelkov in war-**** spam.
That’s HuYandex — pure decay,
A puppet search in war's ballet.

It was the same with CowID lies —
Chains and fraud in clean disguise.
Search once meant truth... those days are dead.
Now fascist filters rule instead.

Censorship and shadow bans,
Fake news boosted by ***** hands.
Ask a question — get a pile
Of tabloid sewage ranked in style.

They sold their souls to **** and crooks,
To tyrant clowns with plastic looks.
The wise and honest barely breathe —
Just ghosts beneath a poisoned sheath.

And Google? Worse — a global dump,
A foul and algorithmic sump.
Where fascists bark and filth ascends —
And **** is trending. Truth? Depends.



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




Search the truth — and choke on slime.
The filth is ranked. The lie’s sublime.
They code your cage, they feed your fear —
And wipe the web of what was clear.



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



Waking Nightmare

I dreamt a nightmare — drooling fools
Closed in from every side, like ghouls.
The lies grew bold, the fascist grip
Had reached a new and deadly tip.

I woke... but horror didn't fade —
The world remained a grim charade.
What once was fraud and drugged consent
Is now a camp — malevolent.



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




I woke — but still the nightmare stayed.
The world obeys. The truth’s betrayed.
It’s not a dream — it’s all too real:
A camp of chains, a spinning wheel.



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



So-Called "Zen"

HuYandex Zen? A bigger lie?!
Just censored rot, no shame to buy.
They spit on Honor, Soul, and Mind —
And Truth? Long gagged and left behind.

Their "news" — pure filth, a toxic feed
Where paid propagandists mislead.
Real Zen? A master’s cracking staff
For smacking idiots in half.

But now — a madhouse in disguise:
Each mask conceals a stream of lies.
They rot the brains of fools en masse —
A festering swamp of lying gas.



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




This "Zen" is sludge for slave control.
They twist the mind. They sell the soul.
No staff, no truth — just bile and spin.
The lie is holy. Thought’s a sin.



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



Dreams and Reality
(A twist on Pushkin's theme)

"Dreams, sweet dreams — where did you go?
They vanished. All that's left is woe."
— Thus Pushkin's lines, now turned anew,
For filth remains — and dreams withdrew.

The lies are gone, the tyrants gone,
No fascist games are carried on.
No more dumb drunkenness or hate —
And rulers now cooperate!

They freed all patents, scrapped the greed,
Let sages rule, not men of need.
Power serves wisdom — what a fate!
But wait... that dream won’t resonate.

For wishful thinking, sweet but fake,
Was diagnosed a long mistake.
So come down from your air-built throne —
And stir, with care, the **** you own.

One fate remains — to stir the mess,
And kneel beneath the lies, no less,
While Kremlin fiends, with **** grace,
Continue killing — face by face.



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




Dream’s a corpse — the stench is real.
You stir the waste, you lick the heel.
The Führer grins behind the screen —
And rules your world with gasoline.



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



Rashism and the Kremlings

They bomb Zaporizhzhia and Kharkiv —
Hit dams, high-rises, power grids.
Old ******'s corpse now coughs up scarlet —
For Russia, that's the final bid.

They coined a name — not just “fascism,”
But something fouler: rashism’s birth.
The TV foams with pure sadism —
Wild **** rot infects the Earth.

They chant their "values," twisted, fake —
Like ******’s "Aryan" crusade.
But Pootler’s show’s a cheap remake,
A grotesque, parody parade.

Like cattle to the slaughter line,
These morons march for "holy war" —
Too gutless even to define
Their bloodlust as it was before.

The colony — like Moskva's wreck —
Is sinking fast, a curse, a stain.
No exile waits on some safe deck —
Just ropes for all this filth and shame.



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




Rashism grins, the lies explode.
The kremlings march a deathbound road.
No end in exile, flight or sun —
Just hang them all. Let justice run.



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



Filthy Propagandists

The stinking hack believes he’s wise,
That only he controls the lies,
That only fools would chew this bait —
But justice has a certain weight.

Betray once — you’ll betray again.
You sell your soul, you rot for gain.
So brave in words — but deep inside,
A coward's filth you try to hide.

But here's the twist they never guess:
Their soul will pay for this disgrace.
For every smug and brazen screed —
A plague arrives to match the deed.

Their "values" led to fascist war,
To madness — rot down to the core.
As Germans once paid for their sin,
The world will crush rashism again.

That filthy voice — a deeper stain
Than torturers with tools of pain.
And still the world lies drowned, immersed
In poison words — the liar’s curse.



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




The liar rots in lies he spread.
His soul is gone. His mouth is red.
No pen, no screen will shield his name —
The world will burn him out with shame.



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



Farce

Old ******’s schemes slipped through the gate —
Through Mordor, mocked by time and fate.
Now history, in meme disguise,
Returns to dumb, enchanted eyes.

The drunks fall deep in trance and cheer,
While others laugh: “This crap? Sincere?”
It’s pure absurdity on loop —
Yet freaks still howl, that twisted troop.



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




A meme-born farce, a drunk parade —
And only fools still feel afraid.
The rest just watch the circus roll —
Where madness plays the leading role.



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



War on Reason

A war is raging, total, grim —
It’s Reason they now seek to dim.
They’ve drowned the mind in blind neglect,
Forgot you’re Spirit — what’d you expect?

The price will come: a hollow soul,
A sparkless void, no higher goal.
God’s left — and in that sudden gap
The Devil sets his breeding trap.

Forget this war? You’ll rot in chains —
In filth eternal, soaked in stains.
You’ll dwell in muck, in cursed unrest,
A walking heap with **** compressed.

The hills of waste are Everest.
While reason’s just a minor crest.
And you, beneath that crushing load,
Bear Satan’s cross on this dark road.

So cleanse yourself — cut through the lies,
Let Spirit, Reason truly rise.
And all the fascist filth you face —
Wipe off their snouts with truth and grace.



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




You rot if you forget the war.
This filth will flood you, evermore.
But Reason fights — and once you stand,
You slap the Devil’s guiding hand.



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



Gains and Losses

You gain a thing —
But lose another.
Believe bold lies —
You blind your brother.

You trust the beast —
The horns will grow.
They speak so sweet —
Then strike you low,

And down you fall
Through Hell's parade.
Go inward, all —
Don't be afraid.



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




Trust the beast — you'll lose your mind.
Look within — and truth you'll find.



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



Ordinary Fascism
(Dedicated to Mikhail Romm)

We could make films like Romm once did —
Of Bucha, Kharkiv, Zaporozhye’s grid.
Killing civilians, that’s their creed —
Genocide’s the fascist need.

Their shame is dead, their honor lost,
Their conscience crushed, no matter the cost.
For fascism needs the dull and blind,
To obey, fear the Führer’s mind.

The rashist plague has **** its pants,
In Ukraine, it met resistance.
Now only little time remains —
Fascism’s end will break its chains.

There’ll be a trial — hang them all:
The kremlings, orcs, the war’s dark thrall.
All guilty in this brutal fight —
The reckoning will bring the light.



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




Fascism’s dirt will drown and fall.
The orcs will hang — they earned it all.
No mercy for the ****** crew —
Justice comes, and it’s overdue.



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



Farewell, Fascism!

Fascists and rashists —
There stand ****** and Puylo.
Between them, communists.
Evil never mellowed.

The Sheep Virus spread —
An “Spanish flu” remake.
First lies invade the head,
Then comes the deadly stake.

Poisons, wars, again,
And lies that never cease.
We’re trapped inside a world insane,
But don’t touch the Führer’s peace —

Bow down to him, prepare to die,
Then beg the priests for grace.
If lucky, live — then purify,
And plead to save your face.

World asylum’s reign —
Farewell! The next catastrophe
Will burn these soulless stains —
Farewell, fascism’s tyranny!



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




Farewell to lies and endless hate.
The world’s mad ward will close its gate.
Soulless fiends will burn and fall —
Farewell, fascism — end it all.



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



Fascist Regime’s Convulsions

The regime convulses —
Strikes cities in its wrath.
This ****’s beyond redemption,
Only nooses clear their path.

Soon that grim fate is coming —
The noose will bring release.
The strikes will triple on the front —
The idiot’s grip will cease.

Only rashists **** civilians,
But soon the end is near.
The fascist rule will crumble down —
The ZSU holds firm here.



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




The fascists twitch, their reign will fall.
Noose tightens — justice calls.
The frontline burns, their lies decay —
Rashism’s done, no more to stay.



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



Ashes

Corrosion of the Mind,
Decay of the Soul’s core,
Nature torn, confined —
Used up, crushed, and more.

Light fades into the dark,
Truth banned, denied.
While lies ignite the spark —
Madness rules worldwide.

War and Sheep Virus’ hand,
Examples of disgrace.
Dignity, reason banned —
A stain on human race.

The dumb-down machine runs on,
Long launched, it grinds.
Morals shift — the shame goes on,
In this world that binds.

LGBT’s vile curse,
Violence and fear.
A dull decay, much worse —
A world turned into ash, unclear.



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




Mind rots, the soul’s abused.
Truth crushed, the world confused.
War’s lies burn, hope turns to ash —
A dying world’s bitter crash.



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



One of All, or All Against One

One stands alone —
While all come down as one.
Such “pleasures” shown —
Abundant, yet undone.

Nothing ever changes:
This mad world decays,
Poor and broken stages,
Lost in endless haze.

One mind rules a hundred —
But hunted down for truth.
Reason deemed a blunder,
“Attack the not your youth!”

For "us or them"
No reason’s in demand —
Only instinct’s helm.
While Spirit fades, unmanned.



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




One fights all — the world’s a beast.
No mind survives — the Spirit ceased.
“Us versus them” — no thought, no soul,
Just primal howls to fill the hole.



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



Fascist ****

The last reserves are slipping,
To not fall in the pit.
A fatal power draining,
And nowhere else to sit.

If you step out—fools swarm,
They feed fascism’s might.
No longer humans, vermin,
A plague that spreads the blight.

Fascism’s filthy spawn—
Breeds traitors by the score.
No exit, just the dawn
Of shame and fear once more.

But fight you must, relentless,
To die with honor’s breath.
Forget the twisted pests —
Defy, erase their death.



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




Fascist **** breeds fear and lies.
No shame beneath their hollow skies.
But fight, resist — and hold your ground,
Till all their filth is underground.



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



Rashism

Calling foes fascists — what a joke!
This madness no sane mind can poke.
How did the sheep become rashists?
Only sarcasm cuts through this.

Logic fails to hold the thread —
Can you grasp the lies they spread?
Those vict’ry-mad faces bare,
Masks off for attacks unfair.

Mariupol’s staged disgrace,
Bucha’s pain in every place.
Schools, hospitals, plants destroyed,
Skyscrapers and war deployed.

Kids are slaughtered everywhere —
These filthy jackals don’t care.
Shaming Russia? They claim so loud —
But fools just echo lies allowed.



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




Rashism’s lies — a foul parade.
Sheep march blind, the truth betrayed.
Kids die while jackals feast,
On poisoned lies from west to east.



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



Grave-ization

To “Kobzon’s concert”
All the orcs now go.
In Ukraine, you ******* —
They’ll **** you, slow or quick, no show.

Try to sneak or strike again —
Or after — no reprieve.
From the “concert,” you descend
To Hell, no one to grieve.

Kharkiv, Kyiv, Bucha bleed —
Fighting peaceful souls, you fight.
Black clouds gather over beasts —
Once humans, now lost to night.

Dead children — hundreds lie,
Your path to Hell is paved.
Tomorrow or today —
One way for you, depraved.



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




Orcs march to death’s song loud.
No mercy in the crowd.
Your road is Hell, no turning back —
Your fate’s a one-way track.



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



Dumbosaurians

Dumbosaurians — not pterodactyls,
A thriving, cursed breed unfolds.
Though remnants of their minds are spent,
War and CowID mean no torment.

Dumbosaurian daughters rise,
A twisted legacy in disguise.
Humanity’s destruction plan —
For lizards’ sake, they wreck the land.



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




Dumbosaurians breed and spread,
Brains long gone, but still they tread.
War and lies their deadly script —
Human fate by reptiles gripped.



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



Show Business

Show biz started with the freaks,
A circus farce, no change but tweaks.
When all the crowds are dull and base,
The whole thing’s just a hollow space.

Perfect for the simple mind,
A dulling game, a trap designed.
The ***-shaker’s always loose,
Serving vice and dark abuse.

To dumb down and defile the best
Of Soul’s pure cries — a vile jest.
Sure, some exceptions may arise,
But mostly vermin crawl in lies.

And mainstream’s full of that decay —
Propaganda’s filthy sway.
Man sinks low to beastly planes,
Losing Spirit’s vital chains.

So only pure, bright souls can bear
The light of poetry to share.
As for the rest — that endless slime,
Spit it out, and leave it grime.



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




Showbiz fools drag souls to dust.
Only light can break the rust.
Spit the filth, don’t feed the lies —
True art lives where spirit flies.



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



“Progress”

Pump the junk with extra force,
Ramp the war — let chaos course.
Treat the masses just like skins,
Value only what begins.

Put all hides into the grind,
Make a servant skin designed,
One who knows the lies and whip —
This world’s doom’s a sinking ship.



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




Feed the junk, fuel the fight.
Turn the world to endless night.
Skin the herd, no hope to fix —
Progress? Just a ***** trick.



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



The Farm

Caught like mice within a trap,
Born into this cruel scrap —
Creatures wait to make their move,
You’re a target in their groove.

They’ll heap "cheese" beyond control,
But that cheese has turned to mold.
You’re the profit for the hound,
This world — a farm, tightly bound.

Yet the slaughter’s drawing near,
Inevitable and clear.
Now, in lies’ last fevered grip,
Their cursed herd begins to slip.

The herd has gorged on lies so deep,
This foulness they have come to keep.
One last chance remains to break
The chains of falsehoods that they make.

Or devils’ll drag the fools away
To their hell where darkness stays.
While filthy wretches, foul and crude,
Will perish in the stench of feud.



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




Caught like mice, a deadly game.
The world’s a farm — a profit’s claim.
Break the lies or burn in hell —
The final choice, the last farewell.



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



Sheep Virus and War

What once was rabbit,
Now minced to mash.
Fool, drunkard, idiot —
All part of the stash!

Mask’s no problem —
Passed the test’s call.
Put on your helmet —
March to your fall.

Test subjects, rabbits,
“Meat” for the fight:
If you don’t think —
You’re deep in the night.

Deep in hell’s pit.




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




Rabbits trapped, no thought or care,
Meat for war in devil’s lair.
Mask on, march, the herd’s disgraced —
Lost to lies, trapped and erased.



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



Sheep Virus “Doctors”

They graduated vivisection’s school —
That filth with minds forever dull.
Brains? — impotence inside their head,
Prescriptions read like deathly dread.

Money, money — greed’s foul game,
And sadism fuels their shame.
Like Pechenegs, they rage and storm,
With fascism in deadly form.

They’ll hang them all when reckoning calls —
Those pawns who made the monster’s walls.



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




Vivisectors with poisoned hands,
Money-driven, cruel commands.
Hang the pawns who made the beast —
End the plague, and find release.



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



Hybrid War

Herds of frightened fools abound,
Madness spilling all around,
Lies that only rotten ****
Swallow whole — no pause, no hum.

Barks, howls, screams — the box of lies
Breeds chaos, darkness in disguise.
This chaos, real and raw,
Used for psychic warfare’s law.

No more saving cash or gold,
This is war, its price is cold.
Idiots, neurotics’ pain —
Make the whole land numb and drained.

Killing isn’t best, they say —
Mines should maim, not take away,
So sons inherit scars and strife,
The crippled legacy of life.



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




Madness floods, the fools comply,
Lies like poison fill the sky.
Maim, don’t **** — the war’s cruel game,
Legacy of pain and shame.



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



Fun in the Madhouse

“A nightmare hour of fun,”
Awakening — just a spark.
A housewarming in the madhouse —
You’ve slipped into the dark.

Born into a madman’s Hell,
Is guilt or innocence to tell?
Joy in this loud, twisted home,
Right amid the war’s dark dome.

A war on Soul and Mind unfolds,
We’re plague to Earth, as truth foretold.
Three quarters — maybe more —
This madhouse fills to its core.

The layer of the wise grows thin,
While fools and madness reign within.



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




Born in Hell, the madhouse roars,
Mind and Soul wage endless wars.
Few remain who see the light —
Lost within this endless night.



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



Idiots

Clinical idiots all around,
You could fill ponds with fools unbound.
How to live ‘mid shattered minds,
And chase the goals one seeks to find?

It’s hard, but here’s the vital key:
Don’t argue, shun the misery.
Bring light to those who still can see —
Let wisdom fight this mockery.



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




Idiots crowd, the world’s a mess.
Don’t fight — just shine, and nothing less.
Light up minds that still can hear —
The answer to this madness here.



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



Decay by Lies

A joke:
A trial’s on. The judge inquires:
“Plaintiff, do you recognize
The man accused, who stole your ride?”
“Since his lawyer’s speech, I doubt it’s mine.”

After lawyer’s twisted speech,
TV’s madness, lies that preach,
So-called “scientist” and seer,
In robes that bring only sneer,

What remains is but deceit,
In minds, decay’s complete.
Like sheep led to the slaughter’s pen,
Lies grow, multiplied again.

The growth, the mass, the spreading blight,
Soon turns the world to endless night.
A global camp of rotting shame,
Where all the earth’s consumed by flame.

Forever here it will endure,
Generations stupid, sure,
Crawling low in shameful guise —
Decay makes traitors in disguise.



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




Lies breed rot and endless shame,
Truth dissolves, consumed by flame.
Sheep led blind to darkest fate —
World decays beneath the weight.



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



Global Cretinism

Idiots like crows descend,
Lies their only message send.
Total falsehood rules the day,
Reason’s stiff, begins to sway.

That small fraction left of mind
Rarely here is now to find.
Prison walls surround the Thought,
Spirit’s flame is barely caught.

All must fall, no sorrow kept —
This global prison’s cracked and swept.
Cataclysm soon will come,
Not much time to beat the drum.

And worldwide cretinism’s grip
Leaves no space for mercy’s sip.



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




Crows of fools in lies entwined,
Reason’s gone, the soul confined.
Cataclysm’s near and grim —
No mercy for the world so dim.



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



Swimming to Hell Amid the Ocean of Lies

Once there were “far distant lands” —
But all were smeared by slander’s hands.
Then everything was lost for good:
Spawn of evil lied as they stood.

Those creatures lie as breaths they take,
Yet truth we cannot seem to wake.
The whole of truth has drowned and died,
Beneath fierce propaganda’s tide.

In propaganda’s filthy sea,
So much foul stench and cruelty,
That all will drown — those ****, those fiends.
Only fools cheer on these scenes.

They don’t want thought, just obey,
Chew the lies and drift away.
In a world of dull-witted throngs,
The wise must dream of other songs.

But pride and scorn block every way —
So in this drift, we sink and sway,
To Hell we sink, too weak to strive,
Lazy souls can’t stay alive.



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




Truth drowns deep in lies’ dark sea,
Fools rejoice in slavery.
Pride blocks paths to freedom’s shore —
So we sink forevermore.



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



Sterlet and Inhuman Beasts

Body armor, helmet worn —
The slaughter rages full and torn.
Before, just masks to hide the face,
Like pike stalking carp in place.

Global fascism fools all throngs,
The wise gudgeon swims among.
To the fire, it’s gonna burn —
Inhuman kings will twist and turn.

If the beasts have bowed their heads,
Only slaughter lies ahead.
There’s a place for sterlet still,
But trapped within the global mill.

A world camp looms ahead,
“Care” on Reichstag’s walls is read.
A sign fools trust and bow to,
While madness reigns in darkened view.



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




Armor on, the slaughter's near,
Fascist beasts bring doom and fear.
Only sterlet’s chance remains —
In this world of death and chains.



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



Half a Dog

Football, hockey, pop — half-dog’s show,
Where intellect is running low.
Feed them "hay" and feed them "oats,"
From the news — chaos floats.

Add a false plague, war’s new game,
In school and college, lies proclaim.
Rule by falsehood every day —
Dull stumps will all obey.

They’ll believe and blindly go,
To slaughter like a sauna’s flow.
Taking with them those who think —
Down the dark abyss they sink.



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




Half a dog, half a mind,
Fed with lies, the herd’s confined.
Blind to truth, they march away —
Taking light and hope astray.



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



Desires and Such

Desires of a *******,
Long since off the charts.
Fascism’s just a trick,
But basically — all sharts.

The ******* rules this place,
With false wants to deceive.
They poison minds nonstop —
To hell with what they weave.

Chekist’s friend is deceit,
Lies are power’s core.
In this foggy, bleak world,
Only darkness pours.



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




*******’s whims, lies that reign,
Fascist games, endless pain.
Chekist’s tools in shadows play —
Truth dissolves, lost in the fray.



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



The Bottom

Russia’s bottom—deep and dark,
The war revealed but just a spark.
A massive shadow long has stayed,
Sheep virus showed the fools displayed.

It also showed the traitors’ ranks,
But wild beasts outdid all thanks—
No one thought to see the worst:
Oprichniks in cities cursed,

Shooting children, women, all,
Bringing joy to beasts who maul.
So that “country” stands in shame —
A pit, a hell, a burning flame.



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




Russia’s depths—dark, cold, and grim,
War’s faint light can’t save or trim.
Beasts and traitors rule the day,
Hell on Earth, no hope, no way.



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



Fascist Regimes

Don’t flirt with the REGIME,
Don’t trust their empty schemes.
All regimes are lies and pain —
Ruled by beasts who bring the bane.

Satanism’s their twisted creed,
For the “top” who sow the ****.
Chains are forged for you, their prey —
In Bedlam slow death holds its sway.

Turning men to beasts, they crawl,
Lies abound, the worst of all.
Fewer judges, cops grow mean,
Madness spreads in every scene.

Lies migrate through chaos wide —
World’s a madhouse, none to guide.
**** disguise as “kindly” guides,
Servants of the folks — their lies.

Don’t believe, build bonds instead,
Smash the lies that poison head.
No delay — autonomy claim,
Grow your strength and break their game.



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




Regimes lie, beasts command,
Chains for you across the land.
Fight their lies — don’t trust, don’t kneel,
Build your strength and break their seal.



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



Traitors and Snitches

Fooling nations, lies that bind,
Mockery, fear, and shame combined.
For fascist madmen, death’s not enough—
They want you stupid, dull, and rough.

To make a fool’s their wicked joy,
Become a traitor, snitch, their toy.
It only adds to their dark drive,
Soulless hearts that thrive to deprive.

Soullessness—their holy grail,
Idiots drunk on lies prevail.
Without a soul, no whim to spare,
They’re puppets tangled in despair.

This is what their masters crave—
Beasts who enslave and misbehave.
The snitch serves lies, a fog so thick,
But in the end, the fool’s the trick.

He’ll get nothing—join the heap,
With idiots, in darkness deep.
Snitches wiped like paper thin—
Rot and ruin from within.



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




Traitors, snitches, soulless drones,
Feeding lies to break the bones.
In the end, they’ll all fall down—
Rotting kings without a crown.



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



Scavengers

Positions aimed, locked tight—
In minds and lands alike.
Such here are brutal rites—
To crush all down to dust alike.

First strike the mind’s domain,
Then nothing stands in way.
A world ruled by fascist bane,
The people silent, led astray.

No people left to claim—
Traitors, fools, two-thirds the same.
Fed lies and rot until insane,
They charge again through flood and flame.

Attacking kin and near,
False plagues they spread in fear.
Like witches on their broom appear,
Propagandists prowl, drawing near.

They feed on carrion’s scent,
Injecting lies with vile intent.
Zombies ready, blindly bent—
A world lost, nearly spent.



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




Scavengers hunt minds and lands,
Fascist grips with iron hands.
Lies injected, brains decay—
Zombies march, lost souls sway.



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



The Führer and the Fool

The Führer nervously smokes —
Plans piled high in heaps.
Born of laziness and jokes,
Rot within that seeps.

The Führer dies, replaced,
A new one takes the throne.
The fool just stands, disgraced,
Endures the brutal drone.

Worse than Mussolini’s grip,
That seasoned fool remains —
So used to rot and lies that slip,
Drowned deep in endless chains.



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




Führer burns with anxious breath,
Plans to bring the world to death.
Fool endures the toxic game —
Rot and lies, their deadly claim.



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



Media and Whips

The media feed the ****’s delight,
To stench the world in endless blight.
They revel only in the smell—
Without the stink, no feast to tell.

Goats with horns jump wild and free,
Their fascist lackeys hold the key.
With whips they rule, the media worms,
Controlling fools in endless swarms.

That fascist ****, with no remorse,
Will crush or break with brutal force.
The sheep are mute, their minds all killed,
Reason gone, just chaos spilled.

The Spirit’s gone, replaced with sludge,
Where once were minds, now toxic sludge.
The sheep all dance in putrid haze,
While whips are stored for darker days.



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




Media stench controls the herd,
Fascist whip commands the word.
Sheep are dumb, their minds all lost—
In the stink, they pay the cost.



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



Structure Built of Lies

The haze dissolved? Not quite!
It lasted long, a rotten blight —
A mess of lies, an endless fight,
A structure forged in falsehood’s spite.

When lies spread deep, destruction’s seed,
From roof to base, the rot proceeds.
This rotten frame will surely fall,
Again, it’s bound to lose it all.

It’s fallen once, and many times—
Yet lies conceal the past’s hard crimes.
This latest falsehood’s broken through—
A sieve where all the lies come through.

Keep lying on, keep spinning tales—
The hour’s fixed; the system fails.
So thick with falsehood, fraud, disgrace,
No other end can take its place.



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




Built on lies, the rotten frame,
Soon will fall, and bring the shame.
Falsehood floods, no truth survives—
Collapse is near, no hope survives.



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



The Rashism Dilemma

A tangled, twisted dilemma brews —
Fascism’s scheme begins to lose:
What to do with memes grown old,
Themes worn out, and stories told?

Fascism needs more dumb design,
An endless drip to clog the mind.
A mental cleansing, cruel and grim—
That’s how rashism tries to cling.

To hold on just a little while,
Then flee the land with weary style.
For battle’s lost, no strength to fight—
Only surrender marks their plight.

The fall of fascism must bring
A cooling of the idiot ring.
So rashism dies, no tragic show—
Just fading fast, its final blow.



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




Fascism’s scheme begins to crack,
Old memes no longer hold it back.
Dumbness forced to plug the mind—
Rashism’s end is near to find.



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



The Propagandists’ False Agenda

Mimes — just passing by!
Into the woods! Don’t buy
The mask’s deceitful show,
No signs to guide them so—

Like scripted manuals,
For broken mentalals,
The liars listen close,
Deceiving friend and those.



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




Mimes walk by — don’t fall for lies,
Masks hide truth behind their guise.
Scripts feed madness, false and grim,
Liars’ words corrupt the dim.



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



The Slaughter of the Sheep

The slaughter of the sheep begins at dawn,
Too much filth on Earth — the lies go on.
The first vet comes to lead the way—
No need for drugs, just lies to sway.

For fascism, it’s all a gain,
Feeding lies that cause the pain.



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




Sheep are culled at break of day,
Too much filth won’t fade away.
Lies serve fascist greed and game—
No cure, just feeding flame.



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



Man to Man a Friend, and... Furry Brother

“Furry paw” commands the rule,
A satrap’s grip, cold and cruel.
Not “for” — but chained and led away,
Killed silent, stealthy, day by day.

“Friend” — just words on posters spread,
A wolf inside the zoo instead.
Brother? Furry, wild, and mad—
All of them are psychopaths.



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



Furry Brother

Furry paw — the tyrant’s hand,
Silent **** across the land.
“Friend” — a wolf behind the door,
Brother? Psychopaths galore!



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



Repeaters

"Drink the sludge, wear your muzzle,
Put on your helmet next —
In fascism, you’ll repeat a year,
On the third they’ll make you — livestock, vexed.

Just obey, swallow their lies,
Raise betrayal into cult’s might:
The traitor grins, your false “priest,”
He’ll lead you blind — you’re just a sprite.

At first they paint you like cattle,
Then erase to draw the ****.
And all is justified by lies —
For now, it’s lies that doom.**



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



Hello...

Unbribable, untouchable
By vile creatures — hello!
An unfortunate imbecile
Answers, lost in sorrow.

We’ve worn out Nature’s patience —
World’s madhouse all around.
How low we’ve fallen, degraded —
All turned into cattle bound?

There will be Light! — the Sun will burn
This global madhouse down.
Not all will fall to scoundrels’ hands,
Nor rot as filthy clown.



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



The Naked King

The "Naked King" — not new Führer, not beast,
Just a common cracked fool, his mind deceased.
Naked means nothing — the king’s just a slave,
Called so as all strength from the masses gave.

They call Darkness "civilization,"
Pretend “wise” are the common population,
Distracting all eyes from the cruel freaks’ reign,
Those mad demons who rule with disdain.

Everywhere “kind” and “royal” are found —
In foul stench, in dog food on the ground,
Called “nutrition,” the media’s foul scent —
A total mess, nonsense to the extent!

And there’s nothing left to clothe these beasts,
Mad ones wrapped in their delirious feasts.
In nauseous madness and lies they stew,
Like frogs, from reason not even a clue.

That trace of reason lost in the sand,
A narrow path where a caravan once planned.
Once frogs sat deep in the swampy slime,
Now they stew in vats of phony grime.




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



The Passage

No man remains — just a strangling snake,
That squeezes, crushes, suffocates all in its wake.
There’s a passage: fools drift one way,
Traitors and liars the other way stray.

A steep path climbs to heights above,
Dangerous — for the rare ones with love,
Who won’t bow their necks to the yoke,
Nor sink in the mire of fear and lies spoke.

Only the few will reach that peak,
Among the many, it’s freedom they seek.
They’ll soar like birds, forever free,
Though no nests are built there, only liberty.



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



Fuhrer’s Counter

Make a Geiger counter for lies,
Or it’s the end, no compromise.
Don’t touch that zombie-box — beware:
One touch, and you’re done — despair.

Like a bomb of megatons — two hundred strong,
This madness going on so long!
The fool believes, the noise goes loud —
He’s already dead, no mask allowed.

“Chemical defense” charade,
Masks, trash, helmets all displayed.
The fascist fiend with lies anew
Launches attacks — the sickest crew.