Igor Vykhovanets

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Amidst the Filth...

Sheep’s Strong Bonds

The ram obeys—his shepherd near,
No fear of staff, no horn to chide.
So too with men—through faith or fear,
They're bound by God and laws as guide.



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To the Artist

Forget the crowd, the board, their praise—
It's better to write and let it stay.
No need to bend, no need to stray—
Eternal works may find their way.

For watching the masses, fearing their call,
Where slaves are many—free minds are few,
Will turn the artist, the writer, them all,
To traitors lost—their talent through.



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Entertaining Chemistry, or "Nature’s Crown"

This chemistry is quite the art—
Not for school, but for the feast.
They twist our minds, they tear apart,
And turn the crowd into a beast.

The dumbing down that schools begin,
The rotten media refine.
Forget your will, give up, give in—
Your mind is nearly out of time.

For reason fades where fools are vast,
And idiots now set the tone.
Free thought? Too rare—it couldn’t last.
And fascist claws keep growing strong.

The future? None. A twisted tale
That nears its grim and final part.
We’re not the same, we’re bound to fail—
The crown will rot, then fall apart.



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Amidst the Filth...

The heroes took another way
And lived a little more than most.
Now only scum and rot remain—
Dark years ahead, a heavy cost.

The CowID, the war, the stage is set,
The filth expands, the chains grow tight.
With bravery gone, the Spirit spent,
There's no one left to stand and fight.



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The Dead, or The World Unmasked

No disguise—just "FAS!"—the call,
And fools rush in without a doubt.
Fascism suits us, after all—
The dead now freely walk about.

The living lost, the dead run wide—
No thrill or feast can break the spell.
And in their joy, they pimp their ride—
For walking corpses, all is well.



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Every little pipette dreams
of becoming a big enema

Each little pipette
Dreams big, no regret—
To grow and expand,
A syringe in demand.

A mold is the aim—
Perfection in frame.
A fool longs to feed,
To breed and succeed,
Yet all that he leaves—
A burden of grief.

A fool's iron mold
Chains minds young and old.
This pattern, once drawn,
Becomes almost law.



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In general, none...

Well, we don’t question—silent, believing,
Swallowing nonsense, blindly receiving.
Falsehoods are growing, thriving with time,
Lost in delusion—we march in line.

Muzzled like dogs, despised in submission,
CowID has sealed our weak disposition.
Worse days will follow—snakes see it clear:
We are just nothing—empty and mere...



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Ideologies of Evil

Submission to the “sacred vision,”
When lies run wild since early days,
Makes nonsense seem a pure decision—
A “truth” adorned in brighter shades.

Most obey—the few unshaken
Stand like rocks against the tide.
All “ideas” serve the makers
Of the chains that trap the mind.

Truth is scarce—it’s crushed and broken,
Hunted down through endless time.
Slaves, deceived, remain unspoken,
Drowned beneath their own decline.

If so, then freedom’s path is waiting,
Reason shines, its course is plain—
Simple, if the mind’s creating,
Not enslaved by forged constraints.



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In memory of Imre Lakatos

"All theories are not only equally unfounded, but equally improbable."
Imre Lakatos.


Falsifications flood the pages—
Disproved when core beliefs collapse.
Yet falsehood thrives through all the ages
When evil guides the science maps.

A “belt” of buffers wraps each theory,
Where counterproofs are trapped in vain.
Truth’s voice grows weak, obscure, and weary,
As chaos sweeps the facts away.

And soon, what once was held as learning
Becomes a wreck—its core undone.
The “scholar,” foolish and unearning,
Stands cast aside, his work long gone.

He turns mere water into wages,
But feeds himself, not humankind.
For “science” serves the gold it praises—
Not truth, not reason, nor the mind.

Yet life’s true base is Spirit, guiding—
Where absent, science turns to lies.
The tainted lead, in darkness hiding,
And serve the fiend they idolize.




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The thin thread of the
inalienable right to Freedom

Through the ages, thin but steady,
Runs resistance to the dark.
Rotten hands would tear it, ready
To erase its final mark.

Slaves obey—so weak, compliant,
Now the thread is nearly gone.
Change accelerates—the tyrant
Sees the time to crush is on.

Darkness grows, no shame restraining,
Brazen, ruthless in its drive.
Still, the Right to Freedom, flaming,
Flickers on—it stays alive.

Though corruption swarms and heightens,
Though the world is filled with swine,
Truth, though battered, never silences—
It survives beyond decline.

When Collapse brings retribution,
This decay will find its end.
Slaves will never be the future,
Life will rise and start again.

Yet for now, deceived and hollow,
Herds are led into the knife,
While the liars preach, and swallow
All that’s left of truth and life.



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Born into slavery

Born into chains, yet unaware,
A slave won’t see the bonds he bears.
If all before him knew despair,
Why question what the master dares?

Their children serve the tyrants blindly—
They call it "love for native land."
And traitors walk revered, held highly,
While fools and madness take command.

When lies rule minds for generations,
Then rot selects the ones who lead.
Decay ensures degeneration—
Entropy’s judgment is decreed.

Dare to question, trust your reason,
Seek the truth within, not lies.
Only then can darkness weaken,
Only then can hope arise.

But fear is useless—doom is fated
For those who bow and call it fate.
Yet mothers still repeat, elated:
"Just do your homework—graduate..."



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The Essential Question

Can awakening still happen?
If for few—then all is lost.
In a world of hollow patterns,
Truth is rare… The chains still cross.

Is a slave doomed by his station?
Can these bonds be torn apart?
Nothing else deserves fixation—
Fear and shame lead to the dark.



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Our Service Helps THEM Well, Yet Hard...

Serve! Obey! Bow down—keep kneeling!
Serve the BEASTS with zeal and grace.
Lie and grovel—earn your dealings,
Gold and honors in their place.

Yet the fool who drowns in faking,
Lost in filth, betrays his soul.
Blindly crawling, never waking,
Dies a coward—dark and cold.



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A Hatch Appeared—Don’t
Be Confused, It’s Just a Ruse

Astronauts soaring—
"The Moon, they're exploring!"
Much like the drunks
Who find hatches alluring.



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Fear of Heights:
Dive into the swamp of "ease"—
Roots and stumps await your knees.



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The Question

The stubborn beetle, worming through,
Or a throng of servants, weak and few—
The Earth’s own punishment, a blight,
Worse than the merciless pests' bite?



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Serving the SPAWN in the Haze

Down the rabbit hole you slide,
Dig through layers, lies unfold.
Stuck in childhood’s frozen tide...
Serving Haze—aren’t you too old?
You can’t tell the reason—true,
But you’ll see just who needs you...



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Flight... WITHIN

Skies are clear—no demon,
Lies and madness gone.
Break through any beacon,
Fearless, moving on.

Once their grasp is broken,
Shadows lose their hold.
Weightless, like a token,
Upward you unfold.

Up—WITHIN: your mind
Dare to cleanse and free.
Only those who find
Truth know ecstasy.



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The Evolution of a Turtle

Like a bird, the turtle dreams,
Soaring high—but in its mind.
Yet it walks where darkness teems,
Through the dust, so lost, so blind.

Free-winged birds don’t understand
Why it crawls in filth below.
To the Sky, so pure, so grand,
Evil’s mud is foul and low.

Shed your shell—no wings appear,
Yet the sky will call you still.
Seek it, rise, or drown down here,
Trapped in filth against your will.



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The best ones fall. The twisted thrive,
Or rotting madmen breed alive.
This world's a pit—no will, no way,
Just darkness dragging all astray.



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

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