One-Way Ticket
A one-way ticket, no regrets,
Straight to the Station "Final Threat."
All aboard! The train rolls on—
Horned One waits, his cauldron warm.
---------------------
One-Way Ride
A one-way ride—no turning back,
Bound for Doom on Devil's track.
Everyone aboard—move on!
Horned One waits with boiling pot.
---------------------
One-Way Ticket
One-way ticket—final stop,
Where all hopes forever drop.
Forward! Every soul's on board—
Horned One waits with seething cauldron stored.
---------------------
"Life's Little Wagon Rolls Downhill"
Down the grade
Rolls the ride.
Grab a doughnut,
Smile with pride.
Then—the abyss:
No more bliss.
---------------------
"Life's Little Wagon Rolls Downhill"
Downhill goes
Life's little cart.
Grab a donut,
Have your part.
Soon—the drop:
No more stop.
---------------------
"Life's Little Wagon Rolls Downhill"
Rolling, rolling,
Down the grade.
Eat a doughnut,
Music played.
Then the fall—
That's all.
---------------------
Gangrene
Of betrayal:
So much was cut away—
So little left today.
---------------------
Gangrene
Born of treason:
They carved away the best;
So little now is left.
---------------------
Gangrene
Of deceit:
They hacked off nearly all—
What's left is poor and small.
---------------------
Gangrene
Of betrayal:
They cut away too much—
What's left has lost its touch.
---------------------
Ruining the Beast
Morons, falsehoods, filthy lies—
Feuds with neighbors, distant fights.
Evil storms on every side:
Morons kneel in fear and fright.
Then comes "Rise up from your knees!"—
Sold as life of perfect ease.
Every lie they'll glorify;
Darkness heaps its mountains high.
Neck-deep in that reeking mound,
Morons slowly sink and drown.
Fear has burst beyond all bounds,
Lies outgrow corruption's crown.
Sane minds now are all too few—
So the homeland vanished too.
Soon the whole world's marched away
To a Camp of Digital Sway,
"Brilliant" in its high-tech gray,
Where the broken march in line.
Till that day, they spend their time
Crushing every simple soul,
Turning humans into shoals.
Make them cattle, dull and tame—
Then they're easy all to maim.
---
Variant of the last two lines.
Turn a man into a beast—
Then it's easy to destroy the beast.
---------------------
The Zombie Box
The newsman drones
His endless lies.
His program grinds
Through vacant minds.
Like a sawmill's scream—
A fool's undead.
---------------------
The Zombie Box
The "special" host
Serves nonsense most.
His TV show
Cuts minds down low.
Like timber split—
A zombie's fit.
---------------------
The Idiot Box
The anchor's spiel—
Another sham.
His nightly show
Reshapes the damned.
Like blades through oak,
It carves the fool
Into a ghoul.
---------------------
The Zombie Box
The newsman lies,
His broadcast grinds.
For boors and fools
It saws through minds.
Like timber felled,
The fool is shorn—
A living corpse is born.
---------------------
_Urikov's Painting
An asshole,
Snow-buried—
That's history's role.
Today, through lies,
The fools survive
In endless mirage skies.
---------------------
_Urikov's Canvas
A bastard,
Snow-bound—
That's yesterday.
Today the fools
Through lies are ruled;
Mirages lead the way.
---------------------
_Urikov's Picture
A fool lies
In the snow—
That's long ago.
Now lies prevail,
And idiots hail
Mirages everywhere.
---------------------
Kefir, marshmallow, cultured cream—
Looks like that's our happy dream.
---------------------
Kefir, marshmallow, curds and cream—
Seems that's all we're meant to dream.
---------------------
Kefir, marshmallow, clabbered milk—
Our life's delight, so smooth as silk.
---------------------
Kefir, marshmallows, yogurt too—
Seems that's all our dreams come to.
---------------------
The sucker's sore—his "sacred ties"
Outlast the flock through war and lies.
An endless war against the Soul,
To drag us downward, lose us whole.
---------------------
The fool feels pain, yet still obeys;
His "creeds" survive through bloody days.
The Spirit's under constant fire—
Till all descend into the mire.
---------------------
The sucker's hurting—"values" stay,
More loyal than the pack at bay.
The Spirit fights an endless war,
Till all sink lower than before.
---------------------
The sucker aches—his "sacred creed"
Outlives the pack in times of need.
A ceaseless war against the Soul—
To drive mankind into the Hole.
---------------------
The Mythic Power of Poetry
The Black Lyre
Like a black briar—
No, like an axe—
Strikes evil's cracks.
Cuirassiers flee,
Shunning the free.
Yet myths expire:
All lost in Mire.
---------------------
The Mythic Power of Poetry
The Black Lyre,
Like an axe of fire,
Hacks at the mire
Corrupting the choir.
Cuirassiers fear it,
Never come near it.
But myths deceive—
In Murk we grieve.
---------------------
The Mythic Power of Poetry
The Black Lyre
Burns ever higher.
Like a battle axe
It shatters the cracks
In the world's foul mire.
The cuirassiers quail,
Turn silent and pale.
But myths still conspire—
All fade in the Mire.
---------------------
"Reforms" reshape Decadence—
To leave the masses with no chance!..
---------------------
"Reforms" refine Decadence—
The crowd is stripped of every chance!..
---------------------
"Reforms" take shape as sheer decay—
So common folk are swept away!..
---------------------
"Reforms" become Decadence's art—
To tear the common folk apart!..
---------------------
Freedom as "Conscious Necessity"
"I understand" the "need" at last,
And cherish tolerance unsurpassed.
A mindless slave is what remains—
The final fruit of all these chains.
No escape from the creatures' press,
If "freedom's" growing foolishness
With every year strikes harder still,
And bends the world beneath its will.
---------------------
Freedom: "Conscious Necessity"
"I've learned" the "necessity,"
And worshiped false tolerance endlessly.
A stupid slave—the final stage,
The end result of a modern age.
No way to flee the beasts of press,
When "freedom's" fake absurdity's excess
Each year grows stronger, strikes more deep,
And chains the minds it claims to free.
---------------------
The Bird in Hell
Like a little bird I sing,
Dreaming I'm on Heaven's wing.
But where the hell did come this cage?
Demons strike with perfect rage.
Not the brow, but straight the eye—
Their sharp arrows never miss by.
Often one mistake is made:
Hell is thought a home and shade.
If that's true, then hear the word:
You're no longer a free bird.
---------------------
A False Paradise
Like a bird, I sing my song,
Thinking paradise belongs.
But who built this cursed cage?
Devils strike with deadly rage.
Right in the eye, not on the brow—
They know exactly where and how.
One may think, deceived and glad,
That Hell itself is home, not bad.
But if such a fate you choose to serve—
You're not a bird, but something worse.
---------------------
A Hundred Words on a Spool Inside the Skull
"A hundred words, wound on a spool inside the skull"—
There stands the tiresome fool.
What more is there to say?
Add "sacred bonds," fear, "patriotism"—
And watch: wild idiocy goes over the limit.
---------------------
The Spool Inside the Skull
A hundred words, a little spool
That spins inside the empty skull—
Behold the tiresome fool at last;
No need to add another cast.
Just add some "bonds," some fear, some pride,
"Patriotism" poured inside—
And suddenly, before your eyes,
Mad idiocy begins to rise.
---------------------
The Fool's Inner Reel
A hundred phrases, tightly wound
Inside his skull, forever round—
A boring fool, a talking shell,
Repeating nonsense very well.
Add "sacred ties" and fearsome cries,
Add "patriotism" in disguise—
And there you see the final goal:
A raging idiot takes control.
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