The Elephant Unseen
We won’t see the looming beast—
Slavery, lies—too slick to grasp.
Fear will choke our thoughts at least,
Ruled by fiends—Hell’s poisoned dust.
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The Nation’s Body, or Our Generation
Gangrene of betrayal
Spreads deep in the vein—
The youth, poisoned fatal,
And fascists remain.
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Fear to Wake
Only terror breaks the spell—
No other way to see.
Drown in madness, face the hell,
To purge the rot and be set free.
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Cataclysm as a Cure for Madness
Like a nuclear inferno,
Evil chokes the Earth in chains.
Monstrous rulers reign in sorrow,
Turning crowds to mindless brains.
Lies, like poison, slowly creeping,
Rotting souls with every breath—
Masks of silence, downward sweeping,
Drag them to the pit of death.
Torn from reason, bound and broken,
Falling fast like soulless sheep.
Tyrants—madness now outspoken—
Know their rule will never keep.
For the End is swiftly nearing,
Bringing doom upon their scheme.
Chaos strikes—a fate unyielding—
Crushing lies, decay, and dreams.
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All this torment is no jest —
It's the beasts that set the stage.
Like a parasite, they feast,
Draining life with silent rage.
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Filth and frenzy,
Lies keep spreading.
The more brazen,
The more blatant
Grows their preaching.
Vile and screeching,
Till the herd is drowning deep—
Trust the evil, stay asleep!
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Guppies
Something enormous is flooding my mind—
Love? Or another deception designed?
Fools disappear into Ignorance deep,
Never aware of the Evil’s grand scheme.
Tend to your small world with “love” and devotion,
Cherish your “friendship” and all that emotion.
Yet in the end, things are “getting much better”
By grinding down souls and minds till they shatter.
Water’s unseen by a foolish small fish,
Glass sets no limit to knowledge it swished.
Lies that are vast are as air—unperceived,
If you are fed and your body’s not grieved.
If walls of a prison enclose all around,
Only a fool sees the world unbound.
All like the guppies have drifted astray—
Slaves, yet too blind to escape or betray.
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The World Repeats
The world is sick—repeats consume,
Each generation meets its doom.
A plague of lies spreads night and day,
And leaves us slaves who must obey.
Falsehood echoes, loud and clear—
The schemers work to sow the fear,
Erasing truth with every breath,
And binding minds till spirit’s death.
Truth is Spirit—hold it tight,
Through storms of soul, through darkest night.
If mere survival is your goal,
The Dark will surely steal your soul.
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Stop and think
Heroic effort brings no gain—
This world’s too foolish, dull, and grim.
Genocide is but the chain
That Evil writes for fools like him.
It sets the script—its slaves obey,
Encouraging the idiot throng.
The villains know: the fools won’t stray
But call all madness right, not wrong.
They’ll bow to lies, accept the claim
That “Good” means nonsense, cruel and trite.
The play continues—just the same,
And souls keep dying in the night.
For that’s the plan: let Reason drown,
So fools, consumed by endless lies,
Can turn to cattle, beaten down,
As raving madness multiplies.
Thus, those who think must change their art—
To fight the Dark in smarter ways.
The swine obey the Devil’s heart—
We must not charge into the maze.
First, stop and think—don't just repeat
The blind crusades that failed before.
Or else you'll lead the mindless fleet
To darkness, chaining them once more.
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Disasters—pros can stage them well,
To keep the slaves in mental hell.
That you’re in deep—no fool will see,
They'll let it slip unconsciously.
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Labors
To drag a bag of bones once more,
Right to Hell’s ever-open door.
A final "Farewell"—cold, resigned,
For souls enslaved, now work assigned!
Their minds will turn to dust in vain,
The fools will toil, yet reap no gain.
To reach the skies—an easy feat,
For free? And fight the dark? Deceit!
Who'd praise such work? Who'd pay the price?
Who'd toss a fortune—treat it nice?
A slave walks down to Hell's embrace—
There's cash to earn. He’ll find his place...
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Resuscitation
"The noblest aim of art is making
The human heart still beat and burn.
And since the heart gives life its waking,
Art must to life itself return."
— Jean Guyau (poetic presentation of the statement).
A poet’s now a life restorer—
A heavy burden, hard to bear.
For hearts grow weak, their beats grow poorer,
And many die while breathing air.
Yet many climb, remain unshaken,
Still trampling heads without a care.
Save just a few—then, lost, forsaken,
You'll curse the Rotten Bedlam there.
And yet—again! Though fate is bitter,
And fame’s a game you cannot win.
They praise the fools, they praise the sinners,
For Evil spins the wheel of sin.
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The Path to Freedom
"Freedom within the state’s a lie."
— Mikhail Bakunin
School is the first step, a law to obey—
Freedom’s a myth they will drill in your mind.
Then comes the Beast with its media sway,
Turning the masses to blind leading blind.
Only the gifted, the sharp and aware,
Born to see through it, escape from the chains.
Few are like this—so the world’s in despair,
Ruled by the Evil that darkens all brains.
See how they showed it—the muzzle, the madness,
Shots filled with poison for slaves to endure.
Only by seeking the Spirit in wholeness
Can we destroy this Bedlam for sure.
Mind under Spirit—our one true salvation,
Healing the madness, restoring the light.
Now, though, the Beast reigns—its foul domination
Rots us, deceives us, and poisons our sight.
Rise and unite, build your kin, break the lying,
Face down the Darkness—create and defy!
Only the Pure Spirit leads the undying—
Heroes are those who refuse to comply.
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The Leper Colony of Souls
Do not serve the Scheme of Lies—
That’s the path where folly dies,
Chased by "carrots", lashed with pain,
Led to slaughter once again.
Only those who break away
Keep their souls and stand their way.
Evil howls—its endless cry
Marks the fight where spirits die.
Save your soul—don’t waste your breath!
Flee before it sinks in death.
Think it’s deathless? Foolish goal.
This world rots the human soul.
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Modern "Farming"
Sow the seeds of doubt and wonder—
Harvest Clarity in turn.
Sow them freely, yet look under—
Weeds of lies will choke and burn.
Lies grow rampant—never ceasing!
Pull them out, then pull once more.
Drink detachment, find some easing,
Then repeat—like years before.
Year by year, refine your labor,
Sharpen hands and clear your view.
Else you’ll die—a twisted traitor,
Selling Nature for what’s untrue.
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Drowned in Lies
"Serve a cause!"—they chant and cry,
Preaching duty, selling lies.
Only to your soul comply,
Truth is lost where falsehood thrives.
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The "Strong" One’s Right to Sink in Filth
Only strength can shake the feeble,
So they serve and bow so low.
Now their "land" is drowning deeper,
Drifting in a stream of woe.
Yet their strength is all for show—
Fools can never see the scheme.
Under Evil’s heel, they grovel,
Calling it "protecting kin."
Guarding lies, they sink in deeper,
Locked in cycles of decay.
Beasts above them know it clearer,
Placing scoundrels in their play.
Round and round—the wheel keeps turning,
Breaking minds, yet still they kneel.
Risk is real, but none discern it—
Filth will swallow those who yield.
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Contrast of Nature and Man
Blue sky is gleaming,
Leaves turning yellow.
Gloomy and dreaming—
Grey thoughts are mellow.
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Lubok and the Embodied Phantasmagoria
Catacombs, the bombs exploding—
Hell beneath, the foe confined.
Like a lubok, fear corroding,
Clots of madness choke the mind.
Bosch’s visions turn to breathing,
All around—a living curse.
In the veins of some, blood's freezing,
While for others—lice are worse.
New Bosch paints a demon gloating,
Lice grotesque beneath its claw.
Fools and beasts—lines lost, eroding:
Darkness reigns instead of law.
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A Gathering in Hell
The "underground hall" stood bare.
One late demon, in despair,
Looked around—no horns in sight.
All on Earth, all joined the fight.
Lucifer expands his keep,
Building Hell in caverns deep.
Satan’s minions now consist
Of fools who serve the dark abyss.
Scratch their “creeds,” and you'll reveal—
Satan’s mark burns bright and real.
Year by year, it spreads anew—
Nothing here can break through.
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