72 poems
“Moo-moo” and manhood don’t align
When all is shrouded deep in blight.
Around you — stumps that used to shine,
And hamsters hiding from the light,
And packs of dogs — not strays, but trained
To serve the Dark, obey, attack…
When all Foundations are profaned,
The void rewrites all meaning back.
To hell with “bravery” so fake —
When sellout morons march on minds!
And “wisdom” means how well you take
The shit, then hoard what comfort finds.
To call such habits “clever ways”
Means Spirit’s spark has long decayed.
Mind’s task is service, not to blaze —
The Soul should lead, and not be swayed.
Forget that rule — you’re pig or mutt,
A "strong one", sure — but just a tool.
A cat’s more noble in its gut —
At least its eyes still carry soul.
And so — soon comes the cleansing blaze,
Through Sunlight born of Higher Fire.
That “spark” — it lit some fifty Mays
Ago. Look out — the glow climbs higher…
---
Variant of the last stanza:
Then comes the purge — a holy flare,
Sun-fed, but not of solar breed.
It strikes the dumb-beast hive-lair —
And burns their training to the seed.
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Zoocircus, burn!
The Soul returns —
Through Light, through Flame,
To break your chains.
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The Flame descends — the Mask is torn.
No beast shall rise. A soul is born.
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To the Summits...
A tropic night in Moldova glows,
By day — near forty, burning sky.
Perhaps the Sun will melt the chains —
For minds awake, it’s do or die.
The traps are set for every Soul —
A war for spirits, fierce and vast.
While traitors, like well-oiled guns,
Strike truth with lies — direct and fast.
They fire fear and reek of rot,
They breed soullessness through WAR.
This world’s become a seething pit,
A stage for Gorky’s Lower Floor.
Tsvetaeva saw it long ago —
This world is hell, pure, tight and black.
The noose became her way to go —
Only a fool would want it back.
But tropic nights reach Alps as well,
The solar fire begins to sear
This HELL ON EARTH — it soon shall fall,
Its dust will take the lies and fear.
And through that dust — a path shall rise,
Beyond this realm, beyond its screams.
Just few shall climb, escape the fire —
Those who kept Soul, and kept their dreams.
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Hell burns. The blind obey and rot.
But Souls unchained — they lose it not.
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Worse Means More,
More Means Worse
Worse means more,
More means worse:
Lies grow thick
In liar's curse.
Venom rises
In obscene lies —
Mind grows thinner
Where evil thrives.
This vale of fear,
This night of dread,
Where Will is chained,
Where truth lies dead.
Once — the whip,
Now — the lie,
The world’s a cage —
No wings to fly.
No flight upward
Through the grime,
No Light breaks through
This putrid time.
Just one choice left —
To drown or fight,
In death or claws
Of dark delight.
The deadliest poison
Lurks in deceit,
But shameful slaves
Still kiss its feet.
So fades the question,
The choice decays —
Death alone
Now clears the maze.
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Truth is banned,
Lies flood the land —
No wings, no flame,
Just Death... and Shame.
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The Scab
The one in charge won’t crash or fall —
He hides while puppets play the role:
Grotesque buffoons in full display,
Whip lies like batons every day.
The puppetmaster waits in shade,
Dreams of the strings forever laid.
While idiots — in dumb despair —
Curse clowns... and never look back there.
To stop all thought — that is the game.
And yes — they’re winning. What a shame.
Each passing age more dull, more blind —
Degeneration now refined.
And since the masses are this dumb,
To rule this herd is not so glum.
The Beasts grow bold — they want their hell,
A slaughterhouse run smooth and well.
CowID revealed how quick they build
A Global Camp — and none were thrilled.
The world now crusted, scabbed and dead,
By mutants void of any head.
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The world’s a camp. The minds are gone.
The Scab has won. The Herd moves on.
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Tragic Themes
They shun all tragic themes —
It helps them rot in Hell.
Mute souls, in shallow dreams,
Where lies and numbness dwell.
If tragedy won’t break
The Mind or stir the Soul —
Then madness takes its stake,
And chains you to its role.
A servant of the Dark —
Where fake hope’s been ingrained.
Your mind reduced to mush,
And thus—the Beast is trained.
Fascism feeds on fools —
It always needs the weak.
It eats what Honor leaves,
And silences the meek.
Not always with a gun —
They kill through slow decay:
Crushed poor, unheard by all,
Drowned in demonic play.
The media’s all theirs —
CowID showed it clear.
With newer, sharper fangs
Fascism grins near.
Now lies become the blade —
The Dark prefers this route:
To strip the Soul from Man,
And birth the Beast throughout.
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When truth is banned and lies command,
The Beast returns to scorch the land.
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Propaganda
Propaganda — pure Uganda:
That’s the level. Pure collapse.
Ruled by Scum — the filthy handler,
Spreading Satan’s toxic scraps.
Dust of darkness rains on numbskulls,
Down their scalps and through their minds.
Still they sit and bear the poison —
Though it rots them, though it blinds.
Scum pulls strings — the clown is dancing,
TV howls its circus lies.
“Politicians” triple falsehoods —
Long as cash keeps flowing nice.
Goebbels spins in hell, convulsing
In his cauldron, caked in flames —
Demons screech absurd distortions,
And folks worship shit with names.
Some half-F;hrer on your screen
Rants his crap with dead-eyed glee —
And though it’s clear the “tsar” is fake,
No one cares. They let it be.
Cloned-out F;hrers, empty faces —
Still, the Scum’s control expands.
Propaganda now erases
Truth through undeclared war’s hands.
The world — ears wide, brain shut tight —
Has forgotten how to think.
And the prize of this great slaughter?
Souls that let the demons sink.
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They fed you filth. You ate it whole.
Now Scum controls your mind — and Soul.
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Pyrrhic Victory
The media lies, barefaced,
Erasing minds in haste.
And we obey the orders cast
By Darkness — off to waste.
The world lies drowned in total fiction —
A global sea of thick deceit.
The Beasts now rule with no restriction,
Their triumph — dull, submissive meat.
And nations? Gone — in full deletion feat.
No fire awaits below —
This Earth’s the Hell we know.
No doubts remain, it’s plain to see:
The scum that feeds on souls so low
Will always feast and grin with glee.
What wakes the herd at last?
A signal — “Sic them!” — fast.
For fascism reigns where Mind is numb,
And Truth has breathed its last.
CowID revealed this creeping blight,
Then war confirmed the game they play.
They softened minds with AIDS in flight,
Now rule with lies — and with a tray.
Of needles, drugs — to herd the brutes and slay.
The world lies under Sin.
A jackass grins within,
As scum march millions to their cage —
A concentration bin.
And since we let the Evil in,
We’ll pay the price without delay.
The victory — Pyrrhic — carved in sin:
The slaves and Beasts all burned away,
To clear this ground for… other tests to play.
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The Beasts have won — the slaves don’t care.
Let fire cleanse this mad despair.
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The Luciferian System
No matter the trials you face —
Forget the “barriers” they cite.
If you bow to the System’s grace,
You’re just a mutt — not fit to fight.
A terrier chasing scraps and lies,
Obeying every barked command.
For safety’s fakes and feeding highs,
You’ll kill the dream of Freedom’s land.
Prepare as well for slaughter’s den —
They cull old dogs without regret.
There’s younger brutes — more quick with fangs,
And numbers rule their cruel roulette.
No matter the mask of pain —
Just guard your Soul through all deceit.
Though ancient truths remain,
Their light now fades beneath defeat.
The System’s core is Blight —
Its sharpest blade — the lie.
We live in End-Time’s night.
Grow Spirit, or you die.
To reach the Realm of Soul —
You’ll need a heart set free.
If trained and tamed’s your role —
The Pit is your decree.
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A dog that kneels, obeys, and dies —
Won’t reach the truth beyond the lies.
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The Making of F;hrers and Sub-F;hrers
Sub-F;hrers — they don’t grow with ease.
They’re forged in monstrous lies and grease.
The crust of falsehoods spreads and thickens,
While hollow “ideas” breed like sickness.
“Progress” takes years — the careful plan:
To drive the people into pens,
Reduce them first to beasts — then send
To slaughter, ruled by shadowed men.
From deep behind the veil they write
The scripts for every staged world war.
All’s rigged — no truth is left in sight.
Just price tags now, and death by score.
The question’s this: How many more
Can we destroy, and stay on track?
The trick? Just lie a little more —
It’s budget-friendly to attack.
History loops, begins again —
But this time, we are near the end.
Collapse is brewing, vast and fast —
The flood has come. Nothing will last.
The tenth great wave of brazen lies
Now rises — final, full, intense.
The System feels its own demise…
And lies its guts out — in defense.
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They lied too much. The world will choke.
The final flood’s no metaphor — it spoke.
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Lavandos and Pindos
Lavandos, Pindos — endless shows,
News vomit pouring nonstop,
Distorted nonsense, endless blows —
A total, steaming pile of flop.
Brains boiling in this endless stew
Of worthless garbage, dull decay.
And worse and worse — the poison’s true:
The end is near, no light, no way.
Dumbing down by endless lies,
By zombie screens that rot the soul,
Degrading minds with stupid cries —
A festering, corrupt black hole.
Add schools and colleges to this,
Where forgetting is the rule,
And what you get is just the piss
Of swine who swallow every fool.
Beasts that crap into your ears,
And shit inside your very heart.
This world? No peace — just rotting fears,
A graveyard where all hope departs.
Only few — a vanishing breed —
Escape the idiot parade,
With Spirit strong, no poison’s seed,
The rare, pure souls not yet decayed.
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They feed the herd with poisoned lies,
While only few still see the skies.
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Diamond Mine
You can’t cram in filthy lies
When years are given to the mind.
If you care beyond your skin,
Falsehood won’t so easily bind.
At first, deceit may slip right through,
But turn on reason’s guiding light —
You’ll see the brazen lies in view,
Expose them all, and set things right.
But only if the system’s built
On truth and intuition’s reign —
While beasts recycle hollow filth,
Refilling nonsense once again.
To dumb us down — their cruel design,
Means endless lies and false parade.
Their memetic chains entwine —
A prison forged from masquerade.
The lies are vast, a cavern deep —
You’re miner in this twisted pit,
Searching for gems you can keep,
Sifting mirages bit by bit.
Most ore is empty, dull, and gray —
Rare diamonds flash through chaos wild.
Among the mad, they call clich;
A “talent” that is so reviled.
Methane pockets build and swell,
Soon the mine will blow apart.
Yet stubborn fools just lie and yell,
Piling waste — no end, no start.
True art’s to forge the diamond pure
Beyond the mine, outside the lies.
Not mere facts, but Light’s allure —
If you’re bold, the gem will rise.
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Beyond the pit, beyond the pain —
True diamonds rise through honest flame.
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Literary Tastes, or Hell’s Rebuilding
"Ahead of the herd goes a horned ram with a bell.
The sheep believe he knows the way.
But the ram just wants to lead —
Dust-free path and better hay...
Many men are like sausages:
Whatever fills them, that they bear."
— Kozma Prutkov
Kozma’s words for serfs,
“Zarathustra” for the few.
Chains amass inside the mind —
Believe the lies? You’re pierced through.
Not just lies — but forged deceit,
A writer’s well-known cheap device.
The Prologue’s done; lies repeat —
A flood of falsehoods, cold as ice.
The Final Act? A Hell,
A ninth circle’s lot for most.
For many — traitors swell
Ranks from first to last, by ghost.
The ninth circle’s just one ring,
But thousands more must fill that pit.
To pack the beasts who serve the king —
By rank and merit in their grit.
Rebuild Hell anew — who cares
For matter, toil, or dim despair?
Foreman leads, no time to pause —
The dark will raise its walls with flaws.
And Earth itself becomes the pit,
A subcircle, dark and grim.
As filth and rot begin to spit —
With lice and scum exalted slim.
Where is protest in the words?
Counterpropaganda’s lost.
The pointing finger’s broken sword —
Midst dung and lies it’s tempest-tossed.
There are exceptions, sure —
But they don’t prove any truth.
Drive the lies out — pure and pure,
Read what’s clean — the “Veche” booth.
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Hell rebuilds, the scum arise —
Truth’s voice drowned by endless lies.
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Themes
What stale old themes remain
Above the sharpest, bleeding core?
“Poets” now are mute, in vain —
Only nonsense, memes, and more.
And all that “cutesy-mushy” stuff,
Takes priority in the fray.
To write the truth? That’s way too tough —
In madness, reason fades away.
The world lies steeped in shared decay,
A plague that spreads without control.
Time’s short; the end won’t stay at bay —
Cataclysms cleanse the soul.
As centuries of fascist blight
Oppress the mind, distort the truth.
They shift their names, their roars and fights,
But kill the Spirit’s lasting root.
This is the inhuman goal,
Almost done, the curse set fast.
Yet cataclysms bring the toll —
So bottom’s never reached at last.
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Madness rules — truth’s left to drown.
Cataclysms burn the ground.
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Stockholm Syndrome
More die here from cancer, stroke, and heart —
Than from the cults of Stalin’s dark,
Or Hitler’s ghost — compared, it’s naught,
Yet worse is what the mind’s been taught.
Stockholm Syndrome kills by billions,
For Evil’s grip is not the fall
Of Spirit or of Reason’s millions —
But turning man into a mule.
These beasts, burdened to the brim,
Mock creatures once with God’s own spark.
They bear the weight of every sin,
While Evil’s triumph leaves its mark.
This syndrome is the root, the cause —
Where fighting kin, not the true foe,
Is praised as strength without a pause,
And blames the wrong man for the blow.
The World’s great Scapegoat is Satan’s kin,
And all the vile, the twisted herd —
In this dumbed-down fascist den,
A mountain built of lies absurd.
Fear fills donkeys’ empty minds —
They “love” their makers of the dark.
To cast out fear from deepest folds —
That is courage; not for fools or barks.
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Fear breeds slaves who love their chains —
True courage breaks those bonds and reigns.
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Stockholm Syndrome
Billions fall — not from old tyrants’ cults,
But from the poison in their heads.
Stockholm Syndrome’s grip insults —
It turns the free to slavish dreads.
The mind decays not by pure evil,
But by the leash it learns to wear.
Beasts burdened, hollow, primeval —
Lost sparks once bright, now stripped bare.
They praise the fight against their brothers,
Blind to the true Devil’s reign.
The world’s scapegoat, Satan’s others,
Rule through lies, control, and pain.
Donkeys crushed with fear and blindness,
“Love” their masters of the dark.
To purge this dread — true boldness,
Not for fools who bark and bark.
Break the chains, confront the lies,
Courage wakes the spirit’s flame.
Only those who cut the ties
Rise above this deadly game.
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Stockholm Syndrome
Not cancer, stroke, or mortal strike —
But deeper wounds within the soul,
The silent cult of darkness’ psyche,
That shatters minds and steals control.
Stockholm Syndrome, vast and blind,
Kills billions through unseen decay.
Not Evil’s form, but false design —
That twists the Spirit’s light away.
These beasts, once sparks of sacred flame,
Now burdened souls beneath the weight
Of shadows that they dare not name,
Enslaved within their fear and fate.
They wage their wars on kin, not Shade,
Confused, they worship false disguise.
The world’s great Scapegoat, demon-made,
Behind the veil of whispered lies.
Fear is the prison of the mind,
A veil that blinds the inner sight.
To cast this terror out, and find
The courage born of Spirit’s light —
That’s the true path beyond the dark,
Where chains dissolve, illusions fall.
Awake the soul’s eternal spark —
And break the deepest Stockholm thrall.
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Fear blinds the soul — but Spirit sees,
And breaks the chains to set us free.
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The Mob-Mouthed Scum
Mob-mouthed scum have bred like germs —
A monstrous, soulless spawn of Hell.
Huge bellies swell with evil terms,
The spawn of Darkness where they dwell.
For centuries, the work went on
To breed these heartless, hollow breeds.
A breed of dogs that serve the con,
Dragging the wise down with their deeds.
They drag the honest, spirit-strong —
That’s why they came to be designed.
No use to talk, it’s all too wrong,
They’ll burn your nerves, leave sense behind.
You cannot teach or reason there —
Just waste your breath and feed their hate.
They multiply through lies and scare —
Your truth makes them more animate.
They’re tuned to lies, bred to fear —
Now lies are louder than before.
The final years are drawing near —
A reckoning is at the door.
A Higher Power will destroy
These worms that gnaw and burn the Earth.
The heat foretells the coming joy:
The Sun grows stronger with new birth.
Who said that God means only “tolerate”?
With scum like these, we’ll part our ways.
Worlds differ — some rise, some wait —
The beasts go Hell’s eternal maze.
The mob-mouthed scum are battle slaves,
The servants of the foul and vile —
In line with darkness, death, and graves,
A damned and broken, bitter pile.
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The mob-mouthed scum will face their doom —
The light will burn, reclaim the tomb.
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Scorching Sun
The scorching sun — here lies the chance:
To burn the filth from Earth’s wide face,
The lesson missed — mankind’s advance
Became a plague upon this place.
Consuming Earth and Spirit’s light,
Defiling all with poisoned hands,
The vile servants of dark night,
With rotting minds and evil plans,
Must be boiled off like lice, a pest —
This world a plague-ridden barn.
Only lies advance the rest,
Beneath wild waves of brutal harm.
Honor, conscience, shame — all lost,
Forgotten in the endless void.
For swine, the trough becomes the cost,
When reason’s spark is thus destroyed.
The few who stand — no longer counted —
Weak, scattered, fading from the fray.
The gluttonous fool soon mounts it,
And sends them all to breakaway.
Yet sun’s harsh blaze will save them too —
Better death than Hell’s slow blight,
Awaiting when the madness through
Will knock to end the endless night.
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The sun will burn the rot away —
Better death than Hell’s decay.
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False Religions
The "Scripture" is the slaughter
Of sheep — a shepherd’s trap.
Everywhere the mind’s disaster,
Soul’s torment — where’s the map?
All true news comes direct,
No filthy scribbles, lies,
No "heirs" of dark defect,
"Spiritual thieves" in disguise.
Go only inward — there
The answers you will find.
Readers mock the written fare,
Cheap poison for the mind.
For poison it remains —
Spiritual venom’s grip,
Else evil’s endless chains
Would never feed this script.
Exceptions — just a grain,
Lost in the dumbed-down praise.
To seek in hollowed vain
Is wasting time and days.
Ideas for the slaves,
Who gulp the fools’ delights —
“Religions” — traps and graves
Of many blinded sights.
This false world trades in lies.
The seeker stands alone,
If honest, brave, and wise:
"Test all!" — your solemn tone.
The only path to find —
Intuition’s flame will guide.
Cut lies loose, leave fog behind,
Or in deception’s swamp, you’ll slide.
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False faiths are poison’s art —
Seek inside with open heart.
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False Religions
The "Scripture" is a ritual —
A slaughter of the meek,
A shepherd’s whispered cruel,
Where truth is faint and weak.
True tidings come unfiltered,
No scribbles from the night,
No heirs of darkness, wilting,
No thieves that steal the light.
Seek only deep within,
Where silent answers glow —
Beyond the veil of sin,
Where only seekers go.
The written word’s a poison,
A venom cloaked in ink,
An endless dark horizon,
Where souls are made to sink.
Exceptions, grains of light,
Lost in the fog of praise.
To seek in blind delight
Is to waste endless days.
Ideas forged for slaves,
Who drink the bitter wine —
False faiths, unholy graves,
Where spirit fails to shine.
This world trades in illusion,
Deceit its sacred art.
The lone seeker’s resolution:
To test with open heart.
Intuition’s flame will guide,
Beyond all crafted lies,
Cut through the mists that hide —
The path where freedom lies.
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Within the veil, the Spirit wakes —
False shadows fade, the soul remakes.
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Slave "Labor"
"They burn themselves at work" —
But souls should blaze instead!
To toil, or boredom’s jerk,
Endure dull pain instead?
Since childhood we’re trained tight —
“Futile labor’s art,”
A proven blight and blight,
That crushes mind and heart.
When slavery lasts for ages,
How can you truly burn?
Patience in cages,
And stubbornness to learn.
But here’s the catch: the slave,
Mad drunk on his own chain,
Counts crowds as free and brave,
While hoarding worthless gain.
Their idol’s clear and grim —
“Work hard, collect your dust.”
Lie, fat, and slime grow dim,
In cycles of disgust.
“They burn themselves at work” —
Well, serves them just the same:
Riding fools in yoke and jerk,
Trailing after goat of shame.
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Burn at work, yet lose your soul —
A slave to lies, a broken whole.
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Failures
“Disappointment’s the finest chariot
To ride along the Dharma’s way.”
— Buddhist Saying
Is “bad luck” just mischance?
Failures shape the soul’s own course:
In crushing blows and tears’ expanse,
Don’t rush toward success’s force.
The crash of hopes, dismay’s embrace —
The Dharma’s path is hard and bright.
A soul’s dark sacrifice in place:
Remember this through day and night.
What price will you pay for luck? —
Wasting strength on hollow gains.
Before the soul, you’ll be struck:
Balance lost brings equal pains.
Pure strength and aims against the dross —
Money, “glory,” shallow praise,
Opinions of the mindless gloss —
All vanish in the Dharma’s blaze.
In the end you gain but dust —
Corrupt, decayed, a hollow bluff.
Upon the soul, clouds gather just —
The ruin’s deep, the fall is rough.
Failure is the task at hand,
If in this crooked world you dwell.
Success belongs to Spirit’s land —
You’re lost if all your longings quell.
To understand oblivion —
The vital art upon the path.
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In failure’s grip the spirit grows —
Forget to fall, and truth you lose.
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The World’s a Fool’s Delirium
The world’s a freak’s mad rambling thought,
Shaken blind with deepest fright.
Yet all its woes are falsely bought —
A monster sets the tasks outright.
A beast, both stupid and corrupt,
Executes commands with zeal.
CowID shows how firmly gripped —
Officials for their bribes congeal!
A single order — and the fiend
Will do whatever evil’s made.
But only bribes will set the end,
While rot has long since overplayed.
The madness of this world is deep,
So camps arise to hold the fools —
If idiot’s meek, believes the creep,
And propaganda’s cruel rules,
The task will be fulfilled in time.
Yet here’s a sneaky twist to heed:
When beasts grow bold beyond the line,
The time to wipe them out will breed.
Cataclysms approach to strike,
A reckoning for fear and greed —
A new fascism’s deadly spike
Has turned the world to dust and bleed.
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When beasts grow bold and rot the land —
The cleansing fire is close at hand.
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Mountains and Holes, or “They Screw Us, Yet We Grow Strong”
“Only mountains can surpass the mountains...”
— Vladimir Vysotsky, 1966
Only holes can trump the mighty mountains.
No hole to hide — you’re doomed to fall:
All eyes will judge with harsh misgivings,
You’re lower than baseboards after all.
Drag yourself into your hole, keep silent,
Believe the lies, just blindly dream.
“They screw us...” — steel yourself, be silent,
Only in your hole can you find your dream.
No flood will drown those holes around —
Just lies that flood and seal them tight.
No flood — just global shit abound:
These years bring forth that sorry plight.
Only bunkers beat the holes, you see.
Be Judas, build your bunker deep.
Examples stand: Hitler, Putler’s spree —
Work thrice as hard to sow deceit.
Become a bunker rat, then future
Will mark your name in history’s book.
The first step: let the scum surround you,
Let them lead, let fools have the look.
The path to “success” is thorny, rough —
Only thick-skinned, bought fools survive.
Throw all culture’s remnants to the bluff —
With it, you’ll never truly thrive.
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No mountain beats the hole’s grim throne —
Screw’d and steeled, you stand alone.
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Stupidity
Clip, picture, meme — it’s pure disaster!
Is this the end of dumbed-down progress?
Hardly so — the crush grows faster,
Pressing beasts in lies and fear’s excess.
Torturing minds with tightening lies,
Year by year the methods grow,
Meaner, crueler, their disguise —
The dumbed-down masses don’t even know.
A stupefied, weak-minded crowd
Can’t dream of freedom’s face;
Words alone control them loud —
Threaten, oppress — no time to waste.
The evil swarm’s relentless goal —
Soullessness in grand advance;
Since cradle age you lose control,
Drowned in lies and fear’s grim dance.
This world of crooked mirrors’ shame,
The idiot now obedient —
Completes their tasks with no acclaim,
Like two fingers mocking — insolent.
CowID showed the truth to all:
War, disgrace, and utter shame.
The world rushes to its fall —
End of the devil’s wicked game.
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Dumbed down deep, the masses fall —
Endgame for the devil’s call.
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Weightlifting
Train your ears with weighted bars,
Prepare yourself for what’s to come,
For propaganda rules like scars —
In Evil’s world, the mind’s undone.
Just trust and never analyze —
That’s how you drop out of the herd.
At bottom fall the shameful lies,
Where truth is crushed and hope deferred.
They’ll chew and feed the empty words,
To swallow nonsense day by day.
Less drunk on vodka than on herds
Of lies they learn to feed and sway.
Everywhere they lie and sell,
And Judas fools grow dull and blind.
“This world is doomed!” — their battle yell:
To crush and raze all they can find.
The Sun has started burning clean,
To purge the filth that taints the Earth.
No place for fiends, for souls unkeen —
No honor left, no mind, no worth.
---------------------
Train your ears to bear the lies —
The sun will burn their dark disguise.
---------------------
If Only We Didn’t Know
If only we didn’t know the mind
Is crap discharged by mental drones,
No PhDs can make that kind
Of truth from lies and hollow tones.
The brain’s complex but just a tool —
Consciousness’s spark, the soul’s own tie.
The “scientist,” a cheating fool,
Feeds spirits fables, frauds on high.
Though Spirit reigns supreme, they shove
Their fictions in its sacred place.
For them, honors fit like a glove —
But truth and honor lose their face.
They hack a child’s mind in half —
Yet consciousness will rise again.
Those hairy paws impose their craft,
Commanding silence o’er the plain.
The hairy paw rules over all.
The “scientist” bows, a craven whore:
He’ll slander, praise, or make you fall —
If money comes on time, and more.
---------------------
Mind’s just crap from mental drones —
Truth’s crushed by greedy, lying clones.
---------------------
Idiots of “Dark Thoughts”
Idiots discuss destruction,
As if fighting Evil’s sin
Were a burden, an obstruction,
Or a fault they’re caught within.
To find hell real, to dwell there,
The “dark thoughts” bright start appears
Like a block for fools who swear
That decay’s the way through years.
Rot in hell and call it “heaven” —
Can you purge that vile disgrace?
Beasts who mock, provoke unbidden,
Urging Evil to embrace.
“Optimism,” “positives”
Sown like weeds by fools betrayed.
The idiot buys their lies, deceives,
Their doom in falsehoods laid.
Directly lost, yet indirect —
Forget bright thoughts in hell’s domain.
In this place, no tears correct,
No whining ends the pain.
But “dark thoughts” hold light’s true spark,
Guiding paths through hell’s abyss.
Those who spread false cheer and lark —
Before God must answer this.
---------------------
Dark thoughts bring light to hell’s abyss —
False cheer serves Evil’s cruel kiss.
---------------------
Kim Il Suns, Kim Jong Irs, and Maos
Kim Il Suns, Kim Jong Irs, and Maos,
Grant us strength to wipe away
All the Pol Pots — those idiotic foes
Who seek dictatorship’s sway.
If we don’t purge their rise,
At the start of their dark quest,
Only slaughter waits our eyes —
No peace, no place to rest.
“Democrats” are close behind,
In lies’ Sixth Chamber trapped.
A hidden rule, cruelly designed,
Where culture’s soul is snapped.
Without it, all is lost.
Strike lies down, confront the Night —
To be yourself, whatever the cost,
Is freedom’s shining light.
You’re no slave when you strive
To cast off darkness’ chain.
Anger is where awareness thrives,
In hatred’s righteous pain.
Forever fools are led
To slaughter in foul lies.
Awareness raises strength ahead,
And lifts the spirit’s rise.
With knowledge comes the cataclysms
That crush fascist realms to dust.
Then you may flee to other prisms —
New worlds where light is just.
The foolish go to hell anew.
No fool is fit to roam
In worlds of Spirit, pure and true —
Fools are the Light’s true foe.
---------------------
Fools breed tyrants, fools decay —
Strength and wisdom clear the way.
---------------------
In Pieces
Take it all apart to pieces,
So you never build again.
First to shred is “happiness” —
Its core is woven lies and pain.
You’ve learned well how to deceive —
Lie to others, lie to self.
Soul near broken — hard to breathe,
And the homeland turned to shelf.
Smoke and stench fill cursed lands,
You revere the foolish, blind.
Look beyond the foolish plans —
Horror there you’ll surely find.
For that “happiness” you chase
Is poison deep, a toxic sway.
Don’t delay — dissect the base,
Throw the lies and masks away.
Only deep inside you’ll find
Answers pure, without deceit.
Throw the falsehoods from your mind —
Consciousness is incomplete.
No advice, no easy key —
Alchemy’s the inward quest.
Light within will set you free,
And with it, shed the dreadful rest.
The terror of the global madhouse
Grows with every passing day.
Fools grow bolder, spirits drowse —
At the end of all decay.
---------------------
Disassembled Souls
Take it all — dismantle, shred —
So it never binds again.
First to sever: hollow "joy,"
Whose root is spun from lies and pain.
You’ve mastered art of falsehood’s breath,
Deceiving self, betraying soul.
Almost crushed beneath that death,
Homeland fades — a smoky hole.
In this realm of fetid haze,
You worship shadows, blind and blind.
Peer beyond the veiled malaise —
A terror waits to seize your mind.
That cursed "happiness" you chase
Is venom deep within the core.
Wake, discard the wicked trace —
Cast deceit from your inner door.
Answers dwell not in the noise,
But in silence deep, profound.
Shatter all the falsehoods’ ploys —
In the void, truth will be found.
No guideposts lead this sacred quest —
Alchemy within the heart.
Light ignites the soul’s unrest,
Tearing veils of fear apart.
The world’s madness thickens fast —
A swirling storm of blight and blare.
Fools grow fierce; the darkness casts
Its final shadow, grim despair.
Yet from this ruin, light will rise —
Born inside the deepest night.
Soul reborn, beyond the lies —
Emerging into boundless light.
---------------------
Locked Away
Psychiatrists lock them up,
And prisons do the same.
The world—a theater,
Or madhouse ruled by shame.
Who dares to stand against,
Gets punished without cause.
A global mental ward,
Where madness sets the laws.
Fools believe in freedom’s lie,
That slavery is gone.
Madmen feed the idiot’s mind,
Those “above” stringing on.
No place for traitors here—
Only filth lies deep below.
Spies are watched with ruthless eyes,
But in the gutter’s stench they go.
A worldwide stench—propaganda’s breath,
Dumbs down fools, commands their fate.
Protecting skins while spreading death,
Killing mind and soul with hate.
Fear’s driven forth—then guarded tight:
“Two in one” — the deadly game.
By lies and poison in the night,
They slay the mind and shame.
---------------------
The Many-Humped Camel
A camel’s sometimes single-humped,
Sometimes two humps rise in view.
But proud Homo sapiens thump,
Spewing nonsense as they do.
They fail to see they’ve grown so plump—
A camel with a humps’ brigade,
Leading caravans to dump
At cliffs where Judas’ debts are paid.
Those humps exist inside the mind,
Built from fear and layered lies.
Though simple truths you’ll surely find
Behind what Judas’ venom buys.
Just see the motives, clear and cold,
Of those fiends through falsehood’s veil—
But then you won’t be “happy” sold,
Nor find your place within the tale.
Reason’s growth will squeeze away
What’s human left inside the shell,
And souls will burn in terror’s sway—
Leaving herds that blindly dwell.
Soulless flocks, to fiends aligned,
Marching blindly in a chain.
Count the many humps that bind—
Camel hordes spread far and plain.
---------------------
The “Servant” Man Beneath the Fiends’ Command
Creativity flares up in rage—
Hard to bear its burning weight.
No poet’s charm or ancient page
Can prove what’s lost to fate.
Not proof that’s sought, but soul’s fierce cry,
Bursting forth in angry verse.
If “cute fluff” is all you spy—
Your mind’s reversed, a curse.
It’s out of order, 'cause the doom
Is creeping close and near:
The meek, dull masses meet their tomb—
Reduced to nothing here.
The “servant” man, a tool and pawn,
For vile fiends who rule the game,
They’ve made him weak; his spirit gone—
These blocks believe the shame.
They trust the myths, the lies on screens,
In total falsehood’s reign,
Fearful, angry—those fiendish scenes
Where traitors hold the reign.
---------------------
For Every “Wise Man,” Simplicity Suffices
Does autumn only mow the leaves?
No — it cuts your strength as well,
Awake! Simplicity’s your spell.
Swim in summer, run in fall;
Year by year repeat the fight.
Stillness — not just empty thrall,
It’s stupor’s prison, blind to light.
Reject the lies that suffocate,
Stand alone, create, persist.
Though your efforts dissipate,
Chasing “fame” is just a tryst.
Fame among the fools and clowns?
Shameful dust, a hollow blight.
They’re content to gnaw their crowns —
Captured in the web of lies and spite.
“Cute fluff” is all they treasure,
Strengthening falsehood’s grasp.
If you serve the crooked measure,
You’ll feed illusions that will clasp.
Better to drown in lies and fog...
Or run in terror’s endless maze.
The horror’s real — no mere dialogue —
It circles close, sets hearts ablaze.
Race along the winding path,
Lines of “duality of being.”
Though fragile life invites the wrath,
In stupor’s grip, you’re just unseeing...
---------------------
Rotten "Apple" Films Its Lies
Rotten "Apple" shoots its flicks,
Pushing globalism's scheme.
Outside phones, it drops the tricks —
Pride pulls downward, kills the dream.
Gates, the so-called "doctor" grand,
Filled the world with worthless trash.
How we fell for this bland scam,
Turned the Earth into a trash.
Now the Artist must code tight,
Or starve in markets false and cold.
The "market" is a hollow blight —
Nothing there, just bought and sold.
They spin the web through “Hu-yandex” —
Censorship its iron hand.
Got a domain? Then just expect
Your visits to be rather bland.
But for all depraved extremes,
Open roads stretch wide and far.
Negative selection schemes
Made this world a rotten scar.
This has sealed its dire fate —
Soon the ashes will arise.
---------------------
Lies and Madness — Two Sides of One Coin
“Show me a sane man, and I’ll cure him.”
— Carl Jung, truth unmasked.
The sickness in the freaks’ own minds
Is viral — keep your distance, friend.
Madness now is "normal" kind,
The common folk — submissive, penned.
That madness shoved through media lies,
And books that chain the mind in place.
False knowledge, forged with cunning ties,
The strongest shackle on the race.
You, Pure Spirit — heresy.
False faiths that poison and debase.
Preachers bare their teeth, decree
To drag all down to hell’s embrace.
Freaks in white coats serve fascism —
CowID revealed the truth.
If brave and honest, shirk their schism,
Their "expertise" is dead, uncouth.
Only mind that serves the soul,
Not one that twists and crushes whole.
Else demons lodge within your brain,
And lies infest you like a stain.
Today, lies and madness fused
Into one medal, cruel and cold,
Given to the fallen, bruised —
Transforming worlds to rot and mold.
---------------------
Warrior Tomatoes
Tomato’s primal reign o’er protest,
While sausage sits as king and god.
The people knead like docile dough—
Mold what you will, as long as nod.
Only warrior tomatoes
Hide behind usernames, speak loud,
But softer still the harshest blame
When Hell grows mad and storms the crowd.
Soon one brave act will burst the juice—
The few who dare to fight the lie.
Till then, Hell rules and crushes those
Who stand and won’t be bowed to die.
And juice will flow in floods and tides—
Tomato’s primacy will rise.
So far it’s been a pitiful scene,
Feces-formed by cops and lies.
Propaganda grinds them down,
Until they’re bricks in fascist stacks.
Tomatoes’ screams fall on deaf ears—
Fascism answers all attacks.
Fascism’s grip is global, vast,
Tomatoes cannot change the game.
The world’s become a constant scorn—
Reason’s pyre awaits the flame.
And now the End is on its way,
To hug the scum and slaves alike.
Not poisoned by the lies, it thrives—
This is their grim, dark spike.
Will mercy come? Perhaps, some day...
A purer world might rise anew.
Through Spirit, souls as thin as air
Will pierce the veil and break on through.
---------------------
Just Listen to Your Own Soul!
Alien nonsense, dark as night,
Creeps on souls like blackened stain.
Only listen to your soul—
The world’s enslaved by evil’s chain.
Just listen to your soul alone—
Lies are total, evil vast.
Traitors, zealots, fools abound—
Most are lost within the past.
Heed the beasts, become their fool,
First among the mindless throng.
Bend before the rabble’s mob—
You’ll be just a broken pawn.
The common fool’s the new “norm,”
As madness rules the land today.
A flood of lies that breed our woes—
The root of all that leads astray.
Dulling minds, diseases spread—
The cruel spawn of wicked hands.
Better blind and deaf they want,
To keep control and crush the lands.
---------------------
Consumerism’s Curse
I eat, yet shun the slippery slime —
Consumerism’s sick disease.
For shallow minds, a twisted crime,
A rule: avoid that cursed ease.
Where blows come hard upon the skull,
And cash is never found or stored.
If every crossroads you’ll appall,
You’re worth no more than filthy horde.
You stand, though fed and stuffed your fill,
In Spirit’s realm, a foolish clown.
Your tales of wisdom? Just a kill —
Decay that drags your soul down.
That lame excuse, “Like all, I stray,”
Throw down to Hell — that’s where it fits.
You serve the beast, you play its play!
A lackey? Just a dough that splits.
To be a pawn, your mind must grow,
Consumer sickness breeds no light.
It leads you only to the snow —
Burn up that plague, escape the night!
Consumerism cuts both ways —
It feeds on you as you consume.
Amidst the lies and stinking haze,
You’ll never grasp what love resumes.
---------------------
Traitors
They’ve bought the salt and matches —
Ready now for war’s grim dance.
In lies and fear they’ve always dwelled,
Just scraping dregs in dark expanse.
The lowest pit belongs to “folk,”
While traitors climb the upward tier.
To beasts they sell their very souls —
Those freaks, for “success,” trade dear.
They crush the meek, serve Devil’s will,
A breed of hellspawn, vile and bare,
With stubby “minds” like stumps of wood,
No conscience, just a poisoned glare.
No order met with refusal —
CowID revealed the truth:
Remember history’s shameful page,
Genocide’s relentless ruth.
Fascism shifts its wicked mask,
Yet ever stays the same foul game.
Serve infernal beasts — your path
Leads fast to Hell, fueled by your shame.
While breathing lies, they sow their seeds,
The people reap their harvest: fear.
They spew more nonsense every day —
The world drowns in a flood of sneer.
Will it end? Hardly, they’ll destroy
The entire valley of the world.
As scum just breed more lies and pain,
In endless shadows, horrors twirled.
---------------------
We Howl — Fight!
Third-rate like trash,
Falsehood’s brutal crash.
Here’s the twisted game:
The louder the scream,
The cruder the lie,
Yet multiplied by fear —
Falsehood sharpens high,
Harder to deny.
Hard to find the truth,
But lying’s learned by proof —
A full paradox.
Fear and lies detox.
Fools drown in the madness,
Crushed beneath their sadness —
Complete idiots all,
As deeper lies fall.
Where fools once stood,
Falsehood grows like wood,
Spreading thick and fast —
Truth’s been overcast.
CowID showed this well:
Minds slain in a shell.
No chance left to save —
The world’s a mad rave.
Clinic! Alarm bells ring!
Fascism’s just a sting:
Now global, worldwide.
Ears go deaf — we howl and fight!
---------------------
Light on the Path
From "Mother God" is born anew
Another walking myth for view.
Believe the nonsense? Then you’re cursed —
A mind diseased, almost like worst.
Conception must be called a sin,
A blasphemy that lures within,
And this falsehood firmly stays,
To drive the fools in cruel ways.
Above the violence they spread
Rotting nonsense, dark and dead.
For hellish fiends, it’s sheer delight —
To scare, to crush, to blind the sight.
Satanism’s the root of all creeds,
Buddhism lags but still proceeds.
Atheism adds its books of lies,
Confusing minds, and dulling eyes.
And widespread stupor reigns supreme —
The fiends keep watch, they scheme, they scheme.
“Religions” weigh like anvils hard,
Atheism’s hammer strikes them scarred.
Since childhood fed on varied crap,
You’ve lost the art to think, to map.
To find your mind and soul anew,
Discard the fog, the total untrue.
Thought serves the Spirit — intuition
Must always guide its recognition.
This truth lies at tradition’s heart:
A Light that leads the seeker’s part.
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