Fools

Hell trembles under fools:
The worst of all the chains —
A pest that never cools,
Amidst the endless pains.

The "doctor," filthy cop,
The faker president,
The "teacher" — petty flop —
All serve the vile serpent.

But fools don’t see the game,
Who’s foe and who’s their friend.
So thieves seem saints in shame,
While fools meet bitter end.

They’ll kill you as a fool,
In madhouse’s endless sway.
If not — then play the tool —
Be cattle cast away.




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Fools breed chains,
And feed the lies.
They kill as fools —
And cowed, we die.




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Fools breed chains, the poison spreads.
Kill you dumb, then use you dead.
Slaves and cattle, all the same —
Madness wins the bloody game.




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Fools

Hell shakes beneath the fools’ command —
The worst damn chains that bind the land.
A nagging plague that never quits,
Drowned deep in lies and endless shits.

The “doctor” crawls, a filthy cop,
The fake-ass president — a flop.
The “teacher” plays a petty pest,
All serve the fiends who steal the rest.

The fool can’t see who’s really boss,
Who’s friend, who’s foe — it’s all a loss.
So thieves wear halos, saints by lies,
While fools get slaughtered, no surprise.

They kill you dumb — a perfect tool,
Or herd you down — a cattle fool.
No mercy here, no hope, no stop —
The madhouse grows, the madness chops.




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Fools feed chains —
They bleed the flame.
Kill you dumb —
Then own your name.

Slaves in herds,
Blind and bred.
Madness rules —
The world is dead.




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Fools spawn chains —
Spread poison wide.
Kill dumb, then claim —
Your soul denied.

Cattle march —
No fight, no cry.
Madness laughs —
While millions die.




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Fools sow chains —
A web of rust.
They drown the mind
In poison’s crust.

Puppets march —
Strings pulled by dread.
Madness whispers —
“Raise the dead.”




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Madness and Sarcasm

Shame’s buried deep in MPs’ graves.
The president’s a cop on steroids.
“Citizen” — your mind enslaved.
Officials? Filth, in darkest voids.

Stench and shame — again, again,
Decay and madness run the show.
Don’t touch the scum who rule this den —
Punish with sarcasm’s blow.




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Shame is dead,
The scum remain.
Mock and burn —
Expose their stain.




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Alya-Ulyu!!!

“Alya-Ulyu!!!” rules the land —
The zombied box’s deadly hand.
Monsters won’t spare fools alive,
Lies kill like gas, they smother, drive.

Old poison gas — mustards, sarin —
Are dumb and worn-out war’s refrain.
But “Alya-Ulyu!!!” and sticky fear
Call stupidity to war’s frontier,

Dragging down the world in dust,
With mindless rage and brutal lust.




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Alya-Ulyu —
The call to dread.
Fools march blind —
While truth lies dead.




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Freebies

Freebies, freebies — poison’s taste,
Nothing more, no saving grace.
When the herd is always right,
Monsters claim their dark delight.

Cheap junk, propaganda’s lies,
School’s genocide in disguise.
The ruble buys a fake “gang” pass,
Exit’s death — no hope to last.

They kill your reason, kill your shame,
Your soul’s next, lost in the game.
Freebies — nasty, vile tale,
Ends with Death — no life, no sail.

Freebies, freebies — earth’s decay,
Humans turned to parasite prey.
Step left or right — no chance to flee,
Earth’s a global death camp, see.




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Freebies kill —
The mind turns black.
No escape —
The world’s attack.




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Kapsho and Kirduk

“Uncle with uncle — all is well,”
In children's books they dared to tell.
Is this the world? Or just foul trash?
Is this the mind? Or putrid ash?

No — rot, filth, and lies abound —
A global madhouse breaking down.
Inhuman like crows they soar...
And Kirduk? Just a date, no more.




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Rot rules the world,
Crows circle high.
Kirduk’s coming —
No place to fly.




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The Split-Up

To split again what’s torn apart,
To dull the dulled, the wounded minds,
They’ll live as told — no will, no heart,
By those who bind and twist their kind.

No limit to the treachery,
Betrayal’s work — a ceaseless grind.
What legacy will we leave free?
A fractured world where fiends lie blind.

Fools, bastards, beasts aligned,
Like lice, the traitors swarm and feed.
In fear and lies, all intertwined —
We are the Earth’s disgrace and need.




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Split and torn —
The fools obey.
Betrayed, broken —
Earth’s shame and prey.




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“Like All the Rest”

I’d love to be a dumbhead,
Applaud the Dark with pride,
Feed fascist strength with drumhead
Obedience — and lie!

It’s easy — be “like others”!
It’s simple: just — a herd!
Why ask, like Hamlet, questions,
When Strada is the word?

For Strada comes — the reapers
Will mow the fools for meat.
But now, they grin like sleepers —
The LIES taste sweet as sleet…




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Like all the rest? Then bleat and die!
The butcher grins — and so do I.




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In the Pen

Great Oink, the mighty teacher,
The chieftain of the swine,
Is stall-ward, flag-bearer,
Commander by design.

The flags are smeared with feces?
No matter — let them wave!
"The foe surrounds! Unite, pigs!
Charge forward, to be brave!

You’ll get your daily slop, pigs,
The freshest filth in town!
Oppose me? Traitor hoglets —
We'll gladly chew them down!"

The herds unite in glory,
They rush against the threat.
Short rations? That’s no worry —
Eat outcasts! Problem — set.

We'll grow the list of traitors,
And raise the sacred bar
Of what offends good porkers —
Decency's too far!




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The flags are brown — but still they cheer:
"Obey the swine, or disappear!"





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Afterwards...

They'll write "bold poems" once the storm has passed,
When tyranny is safely in the grave.
But now they hum along — or just stay masked:
"Not war... just ops... it’s order... please behave."

They'll shoot their films, pen noble retrospectives —
So brave and wise... but only afterward.
Today, they’re docile sheep — the least reactive —
Too scared to even glare at fascist herds.




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They'll shout "I fought!" when all is calm and still —
But now? They serve. Obedient and chill.




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The Deathbird

I tear the chains,
Burn every nerve.
I’m sick of these stains —
These sellout whores I serve.

Only Death’s my friend —
He’ll never betray.
This world, end to end,
Is a shrine of decay.

There are a few sparks,
But the moment is gone.
And Death, like a lark,
Stings fools — then moves on.

Her lift is immense,
She cuts through the grime.
If I make some sense,
She’ll take me — this time.




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The Deathbird lifts — I’ve paid the toll.
Let liars rot. I want my soul.




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The Deathbird

I rip the cords.
Nerves blaze and burn.
I'm done with the hordes
Of whores who sold their turn.

Death walks beside me —
Unbending. Alone.
This temple of lying
Will crack into stone.

A world of false idols,
Of drooling decree —
No thought, no revival,
Just worship of meat.

There are the few — bright ones —
But time has been lost.
The vortex ignites us,
Then buries the cost.

And Death, as a creature,
Unchained and immense,
Spreads wings like a preacher
Of fire and offense.

She circles the wreckage —
This madhouse of swine.
She hungers for exit,
And so, too, do I.

If she finds me worthy,
Not gagged, not asleep —
She’ll pull me through fury
Too vast and too deep.




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The Deathbird rises. Lies collapse.
I tear the leash. No turning back.




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The Deathbird

I tear the cords.
Let fire sear.
No more accords
With whores and fear.

I walk with Death —
The final friend.
This world of breath
Deserves its end.

False gods in rubble,
Truth sold for meat.
The drones stay humble
And kiss defeat.

Yes — few still burn,
But the time is done.
The gears won’t turn
Till the lies are none.

Then comes the Bird —
A storm, not grace.
Her scream is heard
Across all space.

She spreads her wings —
A thousand suns,
Unmaking kings
And blessed guns.

She doesn’t mourn.
She doesn’t weep.
She rips the scorn
From slumber’s deep.

And I — once chained,
Now cut, now clear —
I ride her flame
Beyond the sphere.

Through howling skies
My Spirit tears,
Escaping lies,
And all their snares.

The veil is ash.
The code is dead.
The Dying Crash.
I rise instead.




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The Deathbird roars — the sky ignites.
My Spirit breaks through dead delights.




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The Advance of Hell

The fool stays blind —
No thought will grow.
The traitor’s kind
Won’t stop the flow.

World fascism,
In full attack,
Comes not with schism —
But through the pack.

CowID and war —
Just opening scenes.
Next: hunger roars,
While crowds serve fiends.

The "savior" lies —
A traitor’s face.
The "leader" cries
With fascist grace.

The "writer" scrawls
In filth and spin.
The lying scrolls
Drive madness in.

The fools grow dull,
Then duller still.
Excuses lull —
But mask ill will.

And Truth? It chokes
In gaslit streets.
The ones who spoke
Are obsolete.

Just scattered sparks
Against the tide —
And Hell no longer
Waits outside.




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Hell marches in. The crowd obeys.
The few who don’t — erased, erased...




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Sludge or Bombs?

Call the “flu” a brand-new plague —
Declare it loud, declare it big!
The goal’s to break the human brain,
Then kill all thought — like pulling rig.

The beasts in charge don’t lead with guns,
They rule with lies — their favorite tool.
They multiply deceit by tons,
Don’t need brute force to run a school.

Why beat the mob with tanks and drones
If trickery can crush the pack?
Just coat their minds with poisoned tones —
And drop some sludge like it’s a smack.




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No need for bombs — just feed them lies,
Then sludge their brains and watch them die.




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Sludge or Bombs

Call it “flu,” call it warfare light,
Push the fear — then kill the sight.
Truth’s a glitch, and brain’s the target,
Dumb 'em down — full-throttle market.

They don’t need no tanks or chains,
Just lies injected in your veins.
Wave the flag, then twist the plot —
You’ll love the cage, forget you’re caught.

Sludge in the vials, truth in the ditch,
Call it “care” — that’s the switch.
Mask the fraud in sweet concern,
Watch ‘em cheer while cities burn.

You want bombs? Nah, that’s passé.
Sludge’ll work in a smarter way.
Say it’s "safety", jab the flesh —
Then watch the mind turn limp, then mesh.

Who needs nukes when lies’ll do?
Feed ‘em fiction till they’re through.
No alarms, no battle cry —
Just a screen and a lullaby.




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Sludge not steel — that’s the plan.
Bomb the soul, then drop the man.




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Propagandwhores

They stitch their lies like latex masks —
The filth grows bold, obscene.
Propagandwhores do their tasks —
Soon they'll leave the scene.

The beastly reign won't last too long,
World fascism will rot.
The veil of lies — thick, loud, and strong —
Will fall. And they’ll be caught.

To Hell they’ll crawl — those snaky swine.
But this Hell’s here, and live.
They burn us now with poison-line
Broadcasts — yet they survive.

Their venom spreads through every mind,
The healing road is steep.
They slaughter souls with toxin kind —
A horror, cold and deep.




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They burn with lies, not flame or rod —
Hell’s not ahead. It’s here. It’s broad.




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Circuit of Madness and Hell

What happens in the zombie box —
The zombie box will tell.
It seems all true, no paradox —
And Hell is real as well.

Evil’s projection floods the world —
Words morph into acts.
While Reason’s fate is dissected, hurled —
Beasts bred in mental tracts.

What fools believe, what donkeys know —
The zombie box repeats.
Thus madness closes, row by row —
The road to Hell completes.




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The box screams lies — the mind decays.
Hell’s bridge is built through fools’ malaise.




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The Herd

Like cattle led,
By beasts they’re fed.
The little folk,
Glad for the joke —
Food, clothes, distractions,
Spirit’s lost traction.

Yearnings of the soul,
Thought’s deep goal —
Ignored, denied.
The herd’s content,
The wise are spent —
And all has died.




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The herd’s alive, but souls are dead.
The wise are lost, the beasts have led.




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Stone Jungles

A crafty type,
The “king of nature,” sly.
That “nature” thrives
In stone jungles dry.
Where lies are currency,
Traitors breed and lie.

Selling, selling,
Betrayal’s trade.
The more you cheat,
The bigger the raid —
You pluck the fools,
More scams displayed.

The goal — to pluck,
To lie and play,
Forget the soul,
The mind’s bright sway.
Avoid the cursed,
No questions stay,
And live without
The soul’s own ray.

Reduced to skin —
A hollow shell.
A gut, a skin,
In greed to dwell,
Dividing spoils,
In darkness fell.




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Stone jungles rule — no heart, no brain.
Just skins and guts, in greed’s domain.




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Stone Jungles


Crafty king, the nature’s fraud,
Stone jungle’s rule, a brutal god.
Lies in stock — betray, sell, trade,
Traitors breed, the game is played.

More you cheat, more fools you pluck,
Feed the beast — no time for luck.
Soul forgotten, mind shut tight,
Questions banned — don’t seek the light.

Skin and gut — that’s all you’re worth,
In this jungle, no rebirth.
Greed divides the spoils rough,
Sharp and cold, the streets are tough.

Forget your soul, forget your dreams,
Stone jungles crush your silent screams.
Hollow shells just grinding meat —
No mercy here, no clean defeat.




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Stone jungles bleed, no heart, no grace,
Just skins and guts in a cold hard place.




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The First Fallen

Who calls the war by proper name
Ends up locked away, the same.
The First Fallen — Reason’s fall,
A mind enslaved, obedient thrall.

Behind the fake Führer’s grin,
They march to death — a hollow win.
Fascist lies, all wrapped in lies,
Draped in falsehoods, thin disguise.




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The first to speak the truth gets chained,
While fools march on, their minds restrained.




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The War Is Lost

The second army—filth unleashed—
Strikes civilians with cruel ease.
Old-fashioned “mortar” still increased,
Ruled by the fool who’ll soon appease.

But behind that double-faced rat,
The Kremlin’s grip still holds the throne.
On a thread she’s hanging flat—
Soon justice calls to take her home.

The tribunal’s set, it’s coming fast—
The war is lost, the end’s in sight.
Propagandwhores may spew their gas,
But lies now hold no worth or might.




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The war is lost, the tyrants fall.
Lies bleed dry — the truth stands tall.




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Pushing the Limits

Soldiers’ widows chat of joys,
As graves are called in grim deploys.
Men—slimy worms—refuse the fight,
Won’t die for Führer’s hollow right.

Decay’s threshold — Hell’s own blight:
All demons flood this broken site.
And what’s beyond? More rot, more fall —
The limit’s pushed — the final call.




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