The Right Balance of Spirit and Mind

The soul’s call in life so hollow
Drowns in filth and chains of lies.
Spirit, rise! Let courage follow!
Break the mind’s deceitful ties.

Burn away the piles of clutter
Choking thought with dull deceit!
Spirit’s first — not mind’s dull mutter,
Noise submissive and effete.

Spirit forms the core of being,
Mind’s a servant, nothing more.
Mind enslaves — and words, unseeing,
Turn to filth and flood the shore.

That foul flood is loosed by Creatures
Meant to keep us bound in chains.
How to fight their twisted features?
Strengthen Spirit, break Evil’s reins!

Tear down lies and build up forces,
Stand against the rule of fiends.
Fools won’t grasp these vital courses —
Too enslaved by their machines.

Few resist, but lone defiance
Will not shift the fateful tide.
Rot prevails — the Hell-born giants
Claim the world with greedy pride.

Only chaos, fire, thunder
Burns the chains and frees the way.
Till then, tyrants spew their plunder
Through the slaves that they betray.



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A Poems to Support the Few

Golden fields of rye are swaying,
In my dreams I see a land
Free from fear and blind obeying,
Free from tyrants’ iron hand.

But I wake — and filth surrounds me.
I will gather strength and Drive,
Crush the filth (or part of it, maybe),
For in filth one cannot live.

Life is hollow, minds are broken,
Tractors plow with poisoned hands.
Toxic seeds in fields are sown, and
Dullness spreads across the lands.

"Education" fuels the madness,
Fools bow down and praise their chains.
Well, my notebook’s open — sadness
Flows through verse with no restrains.

Writing’s easy — evil’s growing,
Everywhere its roots extend.
Fools won’t grasp the words I’m sowing,
All this work may find no end.

Yet a few will see and listen —
They must know they’re not alone!
Without echoes, dark thoughts thicken,
Crushing hearts like lifeless stone.



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The Wheel’s Torment

The mad Samsara wheel is turning,
Corrupting souls without a clue.
Crushed and torn, yet none are learning—
Fed with lies disguised as truth.

"Lessons gained," they chant, deceiving—
Hell is all they truly find.
Like lost children, left to grieving,
Thrown to wolves and raised to blind.



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Big Issues with Thinking

"The only way to improve our reasoning
is to make it as clear as in mathematics—
so errors can be seen with our eyes.
And if disputes arise, one may simply say:
‘Let us calculate!’—and truth will be revealed."
—Gottfried Leibniz, 18th century


The tree of thought, once strong and growing,
Wilts where lies and filth are flowing.
Truth is drowned in brute suppression,
Crushed by "fascist mind" oppression.

Year by year, decay advances—
Fiends ensure no thought enhances.
CowID showed the final toll—
Feeble minds and shriveled soul.



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Modern Inquisition

Drip, drip, drip—old inquisition
Bore a hole with steady aim.
Now refined, the same tradition—
Drips of lies will sink the game.



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Shops and Supermarkets
of Lies in Lucifer’s Domain

"Each morning we open our eyes, like a merchant unlocks his store,
To display ourselves for deception, and cheat our neighbor once more;
Then at night we close them again, having spent the whole day in deceit."
— Jean de La Bruyère, 17th century.


The antique shops have faded,
Supermarkets stand instead.
Lies have long intoxicated—
Drowned in falsehood, mind is dead.

Few today resist submission,
Seen as fools, despised, alone.
For the masses—truth’s omission,
Madness rules their world of stone.

Who’s the madman? Any neighbor—
For deceit is now the way.
Truth’s dismissed as myth and vapor,
Dragged to nothing—Lucifer’s play.

Horns unseen yet reign so boldly,
Hidden specters pull the chain.
Fools are mass-produced and sold—see,
Ignorance is now in gain.



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Healing Through Fasting

A poet’s hunger is the cure,
The best way to cleanse the mind,
Purging all that is obscure—
Madness left to stay behind.

Yet who cares? Decline is nearing,
Who needs poetry today?
Still, his spirit persevering
Proves its strength in its own way.

Fools see nothing but survival,
Serving Evil, blind and weak,
Drowning in deceit’s revival—
Truth is mad, if Nonsense speak.



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No Spiritual Experience Here

Hell’s no place for sacred sight—
Just the Devil’s fraud and blight.
Yet you cling to all you’ve got—
Truly, you're a mindless clot...



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Interval Between Thoughts

Interval—you're caught inside,
Pause a moment, take a rest.
Hold emotions, tame the tide,
But don’t slumber—stay your best.

Simple lesson, yet profound,
Part of walking Spirit’s way.
Precious insights can be found,
Train your soul with each new day.

Sharpened senses—grow them keen,
Truth is scarce where Falsehood thrives.
Cast off all that proves unclean,
Let the Soul alone decide.

Serving Soul—your truest aim,
Not the mind or knowledge vain.
Else you fall to Evil’s frame,
Trapped and stranded—lost again.

Stranded, madness fills the land,
Few still walk the narrow trail.
Self-reflection guides their hand—
Only that will serve you well.



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Dao Ciao

"Following Dao, day by day one loses."
— Laozi, Dao De Jing, 5th century BCE


Dao Ciao—say goodbye
To the world you used to know,
Fear and lies—just let them die,
Or a fool is all you’ll go.

Letting go is not enough—
Let despair consume your soul!
Like a venom, sharp and rough,
For the leaving spares no role.

No return—the road is rotten,
What you flee is filth and fraud.
Only one regret: how often
You were fooled by hollow gods.

Ciao! Ciao! Run, don’t waver,
Never turn your head to see.
Laozi lied—the Dao’s no savior,
Hell’s no place for wisdom’s seed.

Dao Ciao—the sole transition,
Leave this nightmare, don’t relent.
Hell is false—its dark magician
Runs a wicked experiment.

Rats escape the twisted mazes,
Fools remain and praise their chains.
Reason’s card no longer plays—
Madness tightens on their brains.

Leave the madhouse, no delaying,
Run before you’re turned to swine!
Fools don't curse the beasts they're braying,
Yet the Beast is their design…



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Porridge in the Head,
or Upbringing and Propaganda

Grains of lie tossed in pot.
Boil them. The mess is hot.
That’s not all—we’ll fry it too.
Brains had formed — thoughts is few.



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Spiritual Vision

The "joy" of bonds, the hollow dream,
Still haunts the lost, a monstrous scheme.
It thrives in broken hearts and minds—
Yet yoga holds the truth one finds:

Withdraw within, seek out the key
To all the doubts that ceaselessly
Disturb the few who dare to ask
What lies beyond the fleeting mask.

Who rules this world? Why are you here?
What is the mind? Are you sincere?
Is love pure light or mere desire?
If ties collapse, what fuels the fire?

What is the core of all your pain?
These thoughts will carve the path again.
And once you learn to truly see,
Your soul will break the mind’s decree.

This world’s a fraud—its love, its reason,
Are fleeting shades, its truth—illusion.
The few who grasp what lies above
Transcend the masses, touched by "love".

To rise beyond is all that matters,
No fate nor chance will break these shackles.
Your soul must blaze, ignite its power,
For only strength can end the hour

Of helpless minds, of spirits weak.
True sight is not for those who seek
Through hollow lust or fleeting pleasure,
But those who walk the path of treasure.



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In Defiance!

Let it be Hell—
My verse stands in defiance!
A poet’s spell
Cuts through the dark and violence.

Don’t bend—march on!
Majority who break don’t make it.
Yet those who’ve won
Know Earthly Hell’s not faked in.

Break off the chains—
Let fate decide the ending.
Your foe remains
A snarling beast, unbending.

This wretched world—
Its fools the greatest danger.
Their lives are hurled
For bait, like mice in chambers.

The pitch-black night—
They dream of light, yet blindly
Live void of sight,
And rot away resignedly.

There is one path—
All else is weak delusion.
The beast’s dark wrath
Now spreads its vile intrusion.

It crushes all—
The few still stand, unshaken.
Its teachings fall—
A stench of lies forsaken.

March on and die,
No prize awaits the fighter.
The dawn won’t rise—
The mob still serves the blighters.



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Women—fools, and men, oh well—
Three-fourths foolish, truth to tell.
Wish there were a stream so deep,
One to take me in its sweep...



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The Living Dead

Life is fear, but death is colder,
Fading slowly, growing older.
Shrouded deep in lies unending,
We’ll all perish, lost, unbending.



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A nail is driven in the mind—
It’s fear. It kills the thought inside.
In many, all that now remain
Is imitation… Slow decay.



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Annoying cheap nonsense

Sick of nonsense—
Price two cents.
Crushed before it meets the day.
Hellish schemes work one sure way:
Drown the mind in empty lies,
Kill the soul that dares to rise.



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Modern-day Cain and Abel

Cain's the master, Abel's blind,
Poisoned slow with twisted lies.
Why just kill him? Let him stay—
Profit's made a better way.



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Villains feast upon our sorrow,
Like a meal they’ll gulp tomorrow.
Victory won’t come our way
Till we see the tricks they play—
All the filth their tongues unleash,
Spreading poison in their speech.



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Masha + Pasha = marriage + work

Masha, Pasha—
Nothing's harsher—
Such a dull and dreary pair,
Work and marriage—empty air.



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All poems are located at address http://vykhovanets.yzz.me

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