Filth delights the savage mind.
Hold on fast — the end you'll find.
This foul Evil soon will fall.
Seek within — that's courage's call.
---------------------
Filth brings joy to hearts gone wild.
Wait a little, patient child.
Soon this monstrous reign will cease.
Turn within — there lies your peace.
---------------------
Filth is pleasure for the base.
Bear a little — ends the race.
This Abomination dies.
Search within — where true courage lies.
---------------------
A prick stands tall —
Propaganda's thrall!
He drives the final wit away...
And fools believe the fraud each day.
---------------------
The bastard's strong —
The propaganda's tongue!
He strips the last sane thought away...
Yet fools applaud the lies all day.
---------------------
The fool prevails —
Propaganda hails!
It drives the final mind away...
Still dupes believe the loudmouth's play.
---------------------
The prick stands strong —
Propaganda's tongue!
It drives the final mind away...
Yet fools believe the fraud today.
---------------------
Hitler, Putler, Mussolini,
Pol Pot crowned the fools' dominion.
---------------------
Hitler, Putler, Mussolini,
Pol Pot — idols of the brainless many.
---------------------
Hitler, Putler, Mussolini,
Pol Pot ruled insanity.
---------------------
Hitler, Putler, Mussolini,
Pol Pot — a world of imbecility.
---------------------
Hitler, Putler, Mussolini,
Pol Pot — fools' dark dynasty.
---------------------
Prince of filth — or simply scum.
Life beneath him numbs us dumb.
Dress the Darkness, gild the lie —
Mindless crowds will gladly buy.
---------------------
Prince of filth, a wretched beast.
Life beneath him is the least.
Dress up Darkness, make it bright —
Reason fades from every sight.
---------------------
Prince of mire, the vilest slime.
Life becomes a death in time.
Paint the Darkness, praise the fraud —
Brains surrender to the charade.
---------------------
Prince of filth — the lowest breed.
Life turns into pain indeed.
Wrap the Darkness, praise its grace —
Thought itself they soon erase.
---------------------
Gulliver and Karabas
Shape our childhood, molding us.
Puppets, Lilliputians too —
They're the many, not the few.
Mental chains are hidden strings;
Thus begins the rule of kings.
---------------------
Gulliver and Karabas
Haunt our childhood, shaping us.
Puppets, Lilliputians too —
They are what the masses do.
Strings are but a symbol's art;
Slavery begins in hearts.
---------------------
Gulliver and Karabas
From our childhood capture us.
Puppets, Lilliputians all —
Most are trapped behind the wall.
Strings are but a metaphor;
Minds enslaved—that's what they're for.
---------------------
Drone.
Verbal sewage
Poured in streams.
Bowing low, fools trust his schemes.
---------------------
Nasal drone.
Endless crap
Spills along.
Dupes still kneel and cheer the song.
---------------------
Droning bore.
Wordy flood
Without end.
Fools still bow and call him friend.
---------------------
Drone.
Verbal diarrhea
Without cease.
Fools bow down with perfect ease.
---------------------
Golden mines
Fill propaganda's lines.
Real life's in the pit—
Below rock bottom's hit.
---------------------
Gold is mined
In propaganda's mind.
Real life's gone to hell—
Far below where bottoms fell.
---------------------
Golden veins
Flow through propaganda's veins.
Reality's down the drain—
Past rock bottom once again.
---------------------
Gold abounds
Where propaganda sounds.
Real life's in despair—
Below the lowest layer.
---------------------
Golden mines
Live in propaganda's lines.
Real life's in the pit—
Below rock bottom still.
---------------------
Golden dreams
Flood propaganda's streams.
Real life's in the pit—
Past rock bottom, bit by bit.
---------------------
A winding way
Through Lies–Noise–Haze–Dismay;
Learn slavery's art
And how to depart
For Spiritual Spheres;
The rest disappears.
---------------------
A twisting trail
Through Lies–Sham–Gloom–Fail;
Know bondage's core,
Escape evermore
To Spirit's domain;
All else is in vain.
---------------------
A crooked flight
Through Falsehood, Fog and Fright;
See slavery's chain,
Break free once again
For heavenly spheres;
The rest—empty fears.
---------------------
A winding route
Through Lies–Nonsense–Murk–Fear throughout;
To grasp slavery's snare
And vanish elsewhere,
To Spiritual Spheres;
The rest—mere chimères.
Variant of last line.
The rest—mere chimeras.
---------------------
A winding way
Through Lies–Noise–Haze–Dismay;
To fathom the chain,
Then break it and gain
The Spiritual Spheres;
All else—chimeras.
---------------------
A winding way
Through Lies, Murk, Dread, Decay;
To know slavery's snare,
Then slip through elsewhere
To Spiritual Spheres;
The rest—mere chimeras.
---------------------
Hamlet mutters:
"To be—or not?"
Break the mob—
Break false thought.
---------------------
Hamlet sighs:
"To be—or cease?"
Free the mind;
End deceit.
---------------------
Hamlet mumbles:
"To be—or fade?"
Crush the herd;
Crush charade.
---------------------
Hamlet drones:
"To be—or not?"
Kill the nonsense,
Not the lot.
---------------------
Hamlet mumbles:
"To be—or not."
Rule the rabble;
Slay the rot.
---------------------
Hamlet mutters:
"To be—or not?"
Break the madness;
Break false thought.
---------------------
Butter, salt, or margarine—
You get nothing in between.
Bow, you gullible fools, and see
Darkness turns you into beasts.
---------------------
Butter, margarine, or salt—
Nothing comes but your default.
Bend your backs, you witless herd,
Darkness makes you grazing curds.
---------------------
Butter, salt, or greasy spread—
Empty promises instead.
Bend your backs, you simple swine,
Darkness steals your heart and mind.
---------------------
Butter, margarine, or brine—
Empty hands are all you'll find.
Stoop, credulous fools, obey;
Darkness beasts you day by day.
---------------------
Butter, salt, or margarine—
Nothing's ever yours to win.
Bend your backs, you trusting fools,
Darkness turns you into mules.
---------------------
Butter, salt, or margarine—
Nothing's yours, nor has it been.
Bend your backs, credulous fools;
Darkness breeds obedient mules.
---------------------
From filth to defiance — don't surrender,
Seek the Hell that hides in splendor.
When you see there's no way out
From decay where shadows sprout,
Seek the Truth and Light within —
For no dawn will rise therein.
---------------------
From vile to bold — refuse to bend,
Try to grasp the Hell without end.
When you learn this dying world
Leaves its darkness still unfurled,
Seek the Light that lives inside —
There alone your Truth can hide.
---------------------
Filth to courage — rise and fight,
Face the Hell and seek the Light.
When you know this world of decay
Has no saving, no bright way,
Turn within and find the Flame —
Here no dawn will ever come.
---------------------
From filth to defiance — don't surrender,
Seek the Hell beneath the splendor.
When you know this world of decay
Has no dawn to light the way,
Seek the Truth and Light within —
Only there can you begin.
---------------------
Miasms of Time
Time does not heal —
It wounds what we feel.
A burden to bear,
Chains binding us there.
Years turn to dust,
A fate of the many,
Forgotten and empty,
Lost in the plenty.
Time is Oblivion,
Through generations —
A madness preserved,
A plague undeserved.
Time is a miasm,
A poison in motion.
Only the Timeless
Breaks all that is lifeless.
Turn deep within —
Eternity win.
---------------------
The Miasms of Time
Time never heals,
It scars and it steals.
Weight on the shoulder,
Chains growing colder.
Years become hollow,
As countless souls follow.
Time is Forgetting,
Through ages upsetting.
Across generations,
Spreads mental stagnation.
Time is a miasm,
A plague of the mind.
Only the Timeless
Leaves decay behind.
Go deep within —
Eternity win.
---------------------
Miasms of Time
Time never heals —
It breaks what it feels.
Burden and chain,
Sorrow and pain.
Years become hollow,
Millions still follow.
Time is Oblivion,
Through every generation.
Time is a miasm,
A plague of the mind.
Only the Timeless
Can leave dust behind.
Search deep within —
Eternity win.
---------------------
The Poet’s World
A narrowed world: a verse, a cat, a mother dear.
"What nonsense! Be a fearless poet, have no fear!"
Yet you may find a kindred soul somewhere inside,
Rejecting lies, let Lyre become your guide.
With her, at times, the emptiness grows less severe,
When words strike Evil’s fortress, sharp and clear.
The swamp below is boredom, filth and stench,
A fake existence trapped within its wretched trench.
The media, the villains — everywhere decay;
No joy remains along this poisoned way.
But finish your new poem, stand upright,
And feel yourself no creature of the night.
Not narrowing — but widening your domain;
If service to the Muse becomes your chain,
The prize will come: a vision bright and true,
A revelation opening worlds anew.
The realm of obedient fools will collapse and fade;
Your work for yourself — a soul that you have saved.
Together with the Lyre, hear the spirit's song,
A rare synergy where two worlds belong.
Drink deeply from despair, endure the final trial —
The Muse’s late harvest, bitter yet worthwhile.
Until the end, in Hell itself, remain defiant —
Rise, dare, create — and never bow compliant.
---------------------
"The Deep Folk" —
Fools or a joke.
If you're wise — run fast!
Escape the madhouse!
---------------------
"The Deep People" —
Fools or crippled steeple.
The wise must flee,
From this insanity!
---------------------
"The Depths of the Nation" —
A fool's domination.
If you're sane — run away!
From the madhouse today!
---------------------
"The Deep Folk" —
A fool or a freak.
The wise ones, take flight!
Save yourselves — quick!
---------------------
"The Deep Folk" —
Fools or a joke.
If you're wise — run fast!
Escape the madhouse!
---------------------
"The Deep Folk" —
Fools or a joke.
If you're sane — depart!
A madhouse at heart!
---------------------
Somewhere far from town,
Cheap as it can be found,
Daddy went and bought
A brand-new "Dad-mobile" he sought.
---------------------
Somewhere out of town,
For a bargain price found,
Papa proudly bought
A "Papamobile" he sought.
---------------------
Beyond the city line,
For a price so fine,
Dad acquired with style
His own "Papa-mobile".
---------------------
Somewhere past the town,
Cheap enough to buy down,
Father got a ride —
A "Papa-mobile" to drive.
---------------------
Somewhere out of town,
For a bargain price found,
Papa proudly bought
A "Papamobile" he sought.
---------------------
Sinking into religious mire,
Blind zeal feeds the darkest fire.
The Purest Spirit cast away,
To distant heavens sent astray,
Leaves human courage, leaves insight,
And dims the soul’s remaining light.
The Spirit dwells within your core;
"God’s slave" — that phrase cuts evermore.
Yet doubts grow weaker in the mind,
As thought is left behind, confined.
Through serving powers of horn and night,
The mind gives up its inner sight.
Hidden in books, dark seeds remain;
In rites and symbols they appear again.
The crowd, in endless blindness caught,
Sees not the chains that bind their thought.
And through a life of shadowed pain,
They walk in darkness once again.
---------------------
Into religious mud you fall,
Where hollow idols rule them all.
The Purest Spirit thrown away,
Your courage and your visions stray.
The Spirit lives within the heart;
"God’s slave" tears the soul apart.
Less and less the questions rise —
The mind grows dull beneath the skies.
Through service to the Horned One’s throne,
You lose the truth that was your own.
Dark seeds are hidden in the page,
In rituals dressed as holy rage.
The crowd sees nothing, follows blind,
And leaves the light of thought behind.
---------------------
A "better half" in secret guise
Turns into a valley deep.
Break your back beneath those skies —
The worst foe wears a skirt to keep.
---------------------
A "sweet half" behind the veil
Becomes a ditch, a deadly trail.
You may break your back in there —
The fiercest foe may wear a pair.
---------------------
"Half of me" beneath the tune
Turns into a deadly dune.
Break your back and lose your fight —
Skirted enemy hides in sight.
---------------------
A "loving half" slips out of view,
A hidden gorge appears anew.
Fall inside and break your spine —
The skirted devil seems benign.
---------------------
Ukraine’s P-resident mourned Bucha’s fate,
But not the swill that kills at greater rate.
The booze or Bucha — what is worse?
Which wound strikes deeper like a curse?
As if a bullet’s deadly flight
Could hit with more destructive might...
Far more the swill has claimed its toll,
Through chaos spreading o’er the whole
World’s broken stage, toward silent graves,
Where countless nameless shadows fade.
The Regime’s filth — just touch the stain,
And all its "care" reveals its bane.
The stench will rise, the mask will tear,
No brief excuse can hide what’s there.
The road to Hell, once smoothly laid,
Cannot be stopped by words or aid;
And savage answers, wild and blind,
Will burst from hearts that lost their mind.
---------------------
Bucha or booze — which carries doom?
Which brings the world a darker gloom?
A bullet strikes, but hidden swill
Has carried graves beyond the hill.
Through chaos spreading, slow and deep,
It sends the countless souls to sleep.
Touch the regime’s decaying core —
The stench will rise forevermore.
The road to Hell is paved with lies;
The beast awakes, the savage cries.
---------------------
The secret of the coat they "sold" —
Such! a dull Emelya, old.
More pain to add to his fake life?
A filthy question, full of strife.
O common folk, awake at last!
Break free from shadows of the past.
---------------------
The secret of the coat they "wear":
So dumb is Emelya there.
To drive more suffering in his life —
A rotten question, full of strife.
O foolish crowd, open your eyes!
See through the endless pack of lies.
---------------------
The coat's great secret, hidden well:
How stupid Emelya fell.
To add more torment to his days —
A question born in filthy haze.
Wake up, you masses, break the spell!
Before you sink too deep in Hell.
---------------------
Sulfuric Acid of Critique
Vitriol and a flood of words —
I sprinkle, and the filth dissolves.
But fools declare, with empty grin,
"All is fine" — the rot grows in.
Madness spreads, the world decays,
Chaos marches through its days.
Pour the acid, let it flow —
Forget the vitriol below!
---------------------
Acid of critical fire,
Burn away the filth and mire.
Vitriol mixed with verbal waste —
Truth dissolves the rotten taste.
Still the fool says, "All is right,"
While madness conquers day and night.
Pour the acid, let it bite —
Spare no rust, expose the blight.
---------------------
Vitriol and wordy streams:
Sprinkle acid on the schemes.
Filth will melt and disappear,
Yet the fool still shouts: "No fear!"
"All is well" — the madness grows,
As the world toward ruin goes.
Pour the acid, let it burn —
To the vitriol never turn!
---------------------
"Death in Paradise" —
In Hell I rot,
A little show
Forgetting my lot.
I lose the thought
That I am but a pawn;
Soon checkmate comes,
And all will be gone.
The rival is cruel,
Yet not a vile beast;
The black ones are demons,
Their game never ceased.
I play for their side,
I walk in their night —
And vanish forever
Away from the light.
---------------------
"Death in Paradise" —
I rot down in Hell,
With a silly TV tale
To comfort me well.
I forget I am only
A pawn on the board;
Soon checkmate awaits me
From an unseen lord.
A cruel opponent,
But no evil fool;
The wicked are black ones,
They follow the rule.
I play on their side,
In their darkness I stay —
And lose my own soul
As the night takes the day.
---------------------
"Death in Paradise" —
I decay in Hell,
Watching empty stories
To comfort me well.
I forget I'm a pawn
In a merciless game;
Soon checkmate will end me,
And erase my name.
The foe may be cruel,
But not evil's breed;
Black pieces are monsters —
Dark masters they heed.
I fight on their side,
I serve their night —
And drown in the darkness,
Far from the light.
---------------------
The Weight of Lies
Shoe polish — a stain on the sock,
A weeper’s grief — a ticking clock.
Children wander far away,
While adults stain their souls each day.
A lie leaves marks upon the cloth,
A hidden spot, a poisoned broth.
Fools have vanished from the way,
But stained feet cannot stray
Toward a road that leads to truth —
Instead they drift to nowhere’s youth.
---------------------
The Weight of Lies
Polish — a blot upon the sock.
A crying soul forgets the clock.
Children fade into the distance,
Leaving truth without resistance.
An adult wears a lying stain,
A mark that follows like a chain.
Fools depart and lose their way;
Stained hearts cannot reach the day.
Still they wander, blind and lost,
Into nowhere, paying cost.
---------------------
The Burden of Lies
Wax on leather, stain on thread,
Tears of sorrow softly shed.
Children disappear from sight,
Adults walk deeper into night.
Truth is lost beneath the stain,
Falsehood leaves a lasting chain.
Those who lie may walk and roam,
Yet their path leads nowhere home.
---------------------
Propaganda Bastards
Propaganda freaks —
A lethal overdose,
They pump the lies
That drive minds into a comatose.
Imaginary threats
Are painted as real fears,
And from their poisoned tales
A true psychosis appears.
---------------------
Propaganda spawn:
An overdose of lies.
They drug the minds to sleep
With fabricated cries.
False threats become reality,
A madness takes control;
The nightmare they create
Consumes the human soul.
---------------------
Propaganda bastards:
Lie overdose.
They push minds deeper
Into comatose.
Unreal threats rising,
A fictional attack —
Yet real psychosis
Comes marching back.
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