False Faces, songs

False Faces

A lying face can hide more pain
Than mines beneath a traveled lane.
No Sappers clear the Lies, beware —
You'll lose your soul, your cross to bear.

Indulge the scum, and you’ll ignite,
Their human bomb, their truest blight.
A fine line splits: most sway with ease,
The slavish herd that serves disease.

The risks are vast to lose your way,
To join the goats, become their prey.
Bow too low, and soon you will find,
Power claims your soul and mind.

Stand like a rock, defy the crowd!
No lies should ever be allowed.
For men of honor, strong and true,
Expose the falsehoods, break through.



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People as Goods

The warranty's expired, the label's torn,
A fact so grim, it leaves the soul forlorn.
Our small world drifts toward Fascism’s cruel embrace,
On the brink of collapse, it finds its place.

Repairing mass production bears too high a cost—
Communism tried, but its gamble was lost.
Now a new bio-robot will take up the scene,
Such are the changes in this Hellish machine.

We are bio-robots, exceptions so few,
Lost in the darkness where ignorance grew.
No Master returns to restore and redeem,
For Satan presides where fools chase a dream.

A deceitful dream—its name is Degradation,
While the Earth, long oppressed, endures occupation.
Yet hope still flickers: a Cataclysm looms,
To purge the satanic lies that consume.



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Courtyard Cats

Furry friends and mates of mine,
With souls alive, not toys, divine.
A ram approaches, bold and vain—
A citizen of lands profane.

Comparison’s a slippery slope,
To insult one may lose all hope.
For sheep's decay has reached its peak;
Your souls outshine those who are weak.

Unlike the lamb, so blind to fate,
While goat "sages" dictate and hate,
They herd the flock to slaughter's door—
And you may follow, lost once more.



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The Subtleties of Noble Verse

A poet's tracks dissolve, erased,
Within the darkness, vast, unphased.
Their souls endure torment and strain,
To serve Psyche, not Mind’s domain.

The mind, when frail, lets falsehoods seep,
And lines grow hollow, shallow, cheap.
This truth must anchor thoughts that stray
Amidst the servants of decay.

And servants, too, of evil’s art
Are legion—poets play their part.
Through ages’ gloom, the wise perceive:
Delusion reigns; few truths reprieve.

Yet poets raise the Spirit high,
Though unaware the reason why.
In Spirit, brilliance claims its throne;
Through Mind, despair becomes your own.



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Cinema Brotherhood

In films, propaganda blazes,
It's paid for, bold and loud,
While fools consume, their reason grazes,
Their souls and minds enshroud.

But artists—be they poets, writers—
Are harder to confine,
To bridle them with nonsense tighter,
Takes a crippled mind malign.

The gullible trust the screen’s delusion,
And numb their reason more,
Today, in cats, there's more conclusion,
Than humans’ minds explore.

Truth’s scarce—a rare and fleeting ember—
These times are ruled by lies,
Art fades away, lost to dismember,
The world sinks as it dies.




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Mind and Spirit

The mind’s a fog of fear and lies,
Deceit and traps in thick disguise.
Like treacherous reefs beneath the waves,
It leads astray the reckless brave.

Yet intuition clears the haze,
Guiding through life’s uncertain maze.
To Truth’s sure shore it gently steers,
A ground untouched by depths or fears.

Below, the shallow world remains—
The mind’s own fog feeds shallow gains.
The Intuition lies discarded aside,
And without it, all sinks in pride.

Rise from the depths of falsehood’s sea,
Use mind’s own fog, but carefully.
Beware, for cunning lurks around—
Where wisdom blooms, strife may be found.

The Purest Spirit earns the trust
Of minds not bound by greed or lust.
A Spark of God’s Eternal Grace—
Without it, thought’s a hollow space.



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Narrow Specialists

A narrow view, concentration’s plight!
Become a fiend—descend from height.
Fed by lopsided expertise,
Your mind succumbs to barren seas.

For broader thought, the Earth’s a tomb;
Narrow minds sow widespread gloom.
A plague of folly sweeps the lands,
Its tyranny in tight commands.

Lopsided vision breeds a flaw,
Though “success” abides its law.
In fields where Nature meets her end,
Such crudeness killers do defend.

Blind to truth, their deeds destroy,
“Achievements” only hollow joy.




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A Poet in the Ocean of Woes

On the galley of his verses,
Chained, he rows through futile tides.
Inspiration? Hollow curses!
Row through seas where Dead Souls bide.

To the ocean, Fresh Woes surging,
Lies will raise a hurricane.
Will the waves destroy his burden?
Hope is folly, just in vain.

Earth and seas, one jail united,
Prison walls that none escape.
Fools and sheep remain delighted —
Madness reigns, the world’s enslaved.









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The Rat’s Infernal Little Den

Heaps of corpses — that’s a war.
Fools in darkness? Plenty more.
Evil thrives as we obey,
Dragged to toil, led astray.

Toil is futile, world’s a sham,
Ruled by filth — a global scam.
To be true means casting doubt,
Seeking light to burn it out.

Madness fades where truth is found,
Self and world — delusions bound.
Light transcends, its voice is clear:
Dissolve within, no need for fear.

The den is deep, it leads to Hell,
And fools who sell their souls compel
A road to shame, to sorrow's pit —
A bridge of lies they’ve proudly lit.



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Three Dumb Questions and the Fourth One Wise

“What?” and “where?” and “when?”—who cares?
Ask instead the “how?” that dares.
Fraud and trivia, bought and sold,
Strengthen chaos, dullness, mold.

First three serve just skill and lore,
But the fourth breaks through the door—
Leaps to realms unknown, untried.
“How?”—dare even cliffs abide!

Year by year, the frames grow tight;
The World Camp looms—a choking blight.
But with “how?” you live, not drift.
Not “like all”—a conscious shift.



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The "Brainwash" Construction Site

Empty promises abound,
A box of lies—their hollow sound.
Fear, madness, poverty unfold,
A world that's hit rock bottom, cold.

Yet promises are made again,
And fools still trust them, now as then.
They threaten, scare, and pave the way—
The cowards rise, their shadows stay.

They build a Camp, now digital, new,
A prison for the many, few.
No room for courage, none for might—
The guards enforce their crushing night.



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Ideologies, or Turning Asses to Goats and Beyond...

"Every well-developed ideology is created, sustained, and perfected as a weapon of politics, not a theoretical doctrine."
— Hannah Arendt


Fools in tanks—Evil’s last refrain,
The final card to seize control.
To dream of triumph, think again:
Turn an ass into a goat to reach the goal.

Dulling minds—a tireless task,
With lies as cherries on the cake.
Ideology’s bile seeps through the mask,
A fortress crumbles from within, to break.

Tanks will flatten lands once more,
And new strongholds will take their place.
Fresh "ideas" slam the door—
Goats will jump to fetch with grace.

Not mere goats, but goat-hounds now,
A twisted breed that faith distorts.
While lies wage wars with TNT’s vow,
The Evil’s foe dwells—it's God in Hearts.








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Cogs in the Mechanism of Evil

"We all were taught a bit, somehow,
A thing or two, some way, sometime..."
It's no coincidence. Through lack,
Evil makes Horror's face sublime.

Recall a thought? It slips away—
The murk's design is razor-clear.
A bolt, a cog serves Evil's sway
More than a brute consumed by fear.

Deceit and terror grease the gears
Of Evil's mechanism well.
To depths mechanic, we've been steered,
Where sanity begins to fell.

With mind and soul both truly free,
No place for you in Hell’s domain.
There, bio-robots ceaselessly
Rebuild a camp—by fear sustained.

Its master Satan, yet his guise
Assumes God's name, as often seen.
With stunted thoughts, the spirit dies,
And you decay in No-Man's Dream.



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The Ugly Duckling, or The inhuman aphid that devours the Earth

A duckling, so vile,
Yet chick-like in style,
The duckling takes flight—
The chick meets its blight.

A soup born of shame,
For the flightless, its name.
Earth’s fools, stripped of worth,
Bring disgrace to the Earth.

A pen for despair,
And Reason’s own snare,
This planet, our Earth—
For Aphids feast, for our dearth...



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Introspection, or the Alchemy of the Soul

To probe into despair—
A task beyond compare—
For fools, it’s just confusion.
Yet mock no such intrusion,

For sorrow is a guide:
It whispers, far and wide,
"Since birth, you’ve been a pawn,
A slave till light has dawned."

The soul, confined and battered,
In anguish, sinks and shatters.
A feeble mind enchains
Itself with endless pains.

But wonder lies in peering
Within, through truth’s engineering:
Inspect the layers of lies,
A clearer path will rise.

And there, you might uncover,
Deceptions to recover.
The Alchemy of Soul—
Embrace it, make it whole!



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Spying Plague

From Windows, let us part—farewell!
A spying plague, a living hell.
Their “updates” always bring distress—
For monsters, more info is less.

And gone’s the interface, so neat,
That “Seven” offered—truly sweet.
The user’s now a shadowed prey,
A “compromising” case to slay.

They’ll shape him into number six,
Through schemes and endless, sneaky tricks.
Such “updates” pave a wicked path:
Degradation, wrath by wrath.

And spying? Merely just a slice.
Dulling minds—that’s their device.
For beasts to rule and power claim,
While cowards live without a name.



Video with these songs: https://youtu.be/o4eusIkwF_8

All poems are here: https://vykhovanets.yzz.me/Poems_in_English.php