The True Colonel
"Our Colonel was born with a grip,"
He cursed with fury on his lip,
And for the BEASTS, he'd always wait—
"Meat assaults" he’d plan, a cruel fate.
-------------------------
Successful Poetry
To burn with words?
Or straight to the fire?
No, better to lie
And betray with desire.
Lie: a little rhyme,
Seems like a bag—
Pour any nonsense
In, let it drag.
They'll eat it up,
Then ask for more lies.
It’s all the same,
When Illusions arise.
In minds, they dwell,
Only rubbish will
Comfort them all.
THROUGH BULLSHIT, SUCCESS CALLS!
-------------------------
"Religious" Fast
Fasting, a fast to guard the murk
Of false religions, where demons lurk.
Much satanic dread in their teachings—
A guarantee of slavery's preachings.
You’re God’s servant... "The Black Magician,"
Who sees all believers as mere submission,
Doesn't trust the fog, wants to find the light—
To break it down, to seek what’s right.
Finding truth in books is tough—
For everywhere, they lie enough.
Introspection, the only way,
To cast aside the lies, to sway.
Seek your answers from within,
Not sparkling gems or golden spin—
The path grows harder, sadder still—
Look for the primal form, the will...
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The Tightrope Circus
Word-juggling acrobats perform —
They make "bears" pedal in a swarm,
Set "tigers" growling on their stands,
As madness claps with bloody hands.
A clever trickster’s sleight-of-thought
Turns cheap deceit to something taught.
"Sheep" in the bleachers stare, entranced,
While muzak keeps their brains entrapped.
Between the acts — a lullaby
That seeps into the mind — and why?
The circus wobbles on a wire,
Each soul contorted in its fire.
But when, from far, you glimpse the scene
And light it with a thought that's clean —
You’ll see: not art, nor grace, nor flair —
Just Evil’s boil, festering there.
-------------------------
At Rock Bottom
You won’t just “fall apart” — no way —
If you are whole, you’re built to stay.
No cultured gloss, no artful lie
Can fake that core or clarify.
“Culture” teems with sweet deceit —
But wholeness walks on its own feet.
Creation stands, rebellion too —
Rebellion from decay we brew.
Decay is not some random curse —
It’s planned, designed, and getting worse.
By scheming beasts with soulless eyes
Who feed us doubts and rigged “whys”.
Resistance is the sacred fight
That only brave ones get quite right.
Ditch fear, embrace a sharpened view —
And make — that's what the strong ones do.
Unshaken like a cliff you’ll be.
So rise — rise far above the sea
Of broken depths where breath is tight —
Up high alone you’ll find the light.
-------------------------
Junk Science
They sell us guts and "breaking news" —
New trash, new ways to twist the views.
Deficiency pretends to seek
The truth — by smashing logic weak.
Absurd their lens, profane their scope —
They’ve scrubbed out Spirit, Light, and Hope.
The sheep still nod, still eat the rot
That Satan’s hired agents brought.
To serve the Dark — that is the deal
To earn a paycheck, stamp, or seal.
They "teach", they "heal", they sell you fear —
The job’s insane — and yet it’s here.
So madness floods the meekest brains,
And seeps through universities, chains
Each mind in sterile, twisted schemes —
As “science” slips into sick dreams.
This whole damned house of fraud and lies
Is now a madhouse in disguise.
And CowID — hell’s favorite con —
Has shown: there is a lower bottom.
-------------------------
Aging Children of the Dead
Aging children mourn the past,
Though youth’s illusions didn’t last.
Now dullness reigns, and tawdry aims
Have drained their strength in petty games.
They locked in place the mindless schemes,
And never questioned shallow dreams.
Though traps were set, and lies were dense —
A soul could fight with common sense.
But no — their drives were led astray,
To chase for junk and cheap display.
For status, praise, or some connection —
They called it “luck” or “life’s direction”.
Aging children lost the game,
Still playing small and calling it fame.
Each chance to grow they tossed aside —
Till CowID slime laid bare their pride.
-------------------------
Fell from the Tree
They charge the poet just to speak —
To print, promote, or dare critique?!
But hush now — quiet! hush — don’t shout! —
The poet’s time is running out.
To live in fascist filth today —
Where once mere life brought soul dismay?
Now deeper still the nation’s drowned,
It’s hell below the burial ground.
You’d have to crash from heights insane
To write down here and not feel pain.
What’s left? Just gather all your rage
And blast the verse right off the page!
Will that explosion shake the scene?
Who cares? Just tear apart the screen!
Only in blasts the soul still fights —
So damn their “heaven” — light the night!
-------------------------
Serving the Führer on Contract
The Führer barked — and off they sped,
Like hunting dogs, their eyes blood-red.
For cash they swarmed, a rabid pack,
To stab the old and shoot the back
Of women, children — every prey.
Hell’s got a thousand games to play,
And he plays all with fervent thrill —
These murders come with a paid bill.
The "doctors" killed with steady hands
Through CowID's obedient plans.
Now once again, the script is back —
They serve with guns, they love attack.
In coats with pus-stained, yellow sleeves,
They preach while every patient grieves.
A license grants them death and pay —
And grinning, they inject decay.
-------------------------
Junk Science
Got gaps in knowledge? Fill with crap.
Then chase some grant in this clown trap.
Just sell the tale they pay to hear —
The truth? It’s nowhere even near.
Fulfill the order — kill for pay,
While real hitmen take the day.
New strains of lies are brewed and spread,
And people swallow till they’re dead.
Supply the press with “proof” and flair —
The Dark will fund it fair and square.
Another bucket’s on its way —
Of filth disguised as sweet “hooray”.
And once they sell it as “research,”
The herd will kneel, the herd will lurch.
Deeper in dung they sink, content —
Obeying what “the science” meant.
-------------------------
So-Called "Law"
The "law" has sold our conscience cheap,
It binds us tight, it makes us weep.
Only dullness hears the sound —
Of chains that twist and weigh us down.
Repression’s all that’s left to see,
“Freedom” must be ripped and bled.
CowID’s test — Darkness comes to be,
It sweeps away, and we’re the dead.
They care not for our laws or truth,
Wipe their asses with the proof.
From the press, there’s no escape —
Through them, they rule the goddamn ape.
To those who still have human worth,
It’s hard to fight this poisoned earth.
Through the press, the beasts will lie,
Driving mindless herds to die.
-------------------------
The Sheep and the New Gates
New gates — a screen’s the way to see.
Behind the updates — enmity.
New haircuts, too, and "care" they sell,
The fools will buy, they can't rebel.
The donkeys will roam through every gate,
Their "path" is there, to fabricate.
They'll lie again, just like before,
The "path" leads down to that same door.
In the ravine, the slaughter mills,
History repeats, and so it thrills.
They’re happy while the gates still shine,
But turn the corner — they're next in line.
-------------------------
The Real Infernal
The unreality of all we see,
A prism of delusion, twisted, free —
Perception warped by hellish light,
That’s Reality — a shameful sight!
Delusion’s constant, never fades —
Attacks from youth, in heavy shades.
Few remain unbribed, untouched —
Truth’s like smoke, it’s barely clutched.
The selfless few will fight to show
The Total Delusion that we know,
The more they lie, the more they feed —
On lies that drown and plant the seed.
Delusion rings in every lie,
A circle built to multiply.
In such a world, the only cure —
Is spirit's strength, pure and sure.
Only the Purest Spirit sees
The depths of hell, the inner keys.
It sharpens mind, and though it’s hard,
In Hell, you rot — but still stand guard.
-------------------------
The Spoke in the Wheel
It’s not a dream, it’s not a thought:
A spoke is trapped — the wheel it sought.
It merges with the turning gears,
And down it spins to muck and tears.
-------------------------
The Stoner, the Thief, and the Doctor
The stoner’s high, the bureaucrat steals,
The satrap grumbles, and it feels.
That’s it! he says, all justified —
The donkey, "Doctor," glorified.
He cuts the ears with all his lies,
We’ll hear no truth until we die.
-------------------------
All Private Affairs
They’ll wreck your private business quick,
With "laws" and acts — a deadly trick.
Underhanded, they'll attack,
Like a terror act, they’ll strike you back.
-------------------------
Mario, Mario, Marionettes
Mario, Mario, puppets dance,
A haze of lies, a deadly trance.
They strike the mind with foolish slander,
Keep your ear sharp in this false lander.
-------------------------
There Will Be Summer
Summer’s coming, songs will fly,
A lot of tunes beneath the sky.
Inspiration won’t depart,
It lingers deep within the heart.
-------------------------
Make Songs, No Matter What
Make your songs — no matter how,
Through the verses, rise again now.
The task’s simple, in the end,
If your Heart’s strong, it will transcend.
-------------------------
Shaitan and the Sheep
Shaitan. The Sheep.
He’s worse than Hell!
Though Hell’s persistent,
The Sheep’s so dull —
Through this, all Evil,
Spreads like a spell.
Look at the world through a twisted lens:
Shaitan and the Sheep —
A bond that never ends.
The path to fascism
Is through masks and helmets.
-------------------------
"Donbeat Bombas"
"Donbeat Bombas" — at the start,
They shelled their own, to tear apart,
A conflict sparked by hateful hands,
A HELL of a FASCIST LAND!!!
-------------------------
Hidden and Open Satanism in False Religions
Tap-tap-tap —
The road to "bliss,"
A filthy swine
Heads for the eucharist.
The fat priest
Feeds the FLESH,
With blood, to feast
On the WASTELAND's mesh.
"Eat the others!"
Has always been the creed,
A madman’s scream
With CANNIBAL NEED.
-------------------------
Revenge Lasting a Lifetime
The string has snapped,
It was my patience.
What’s left behind?
Of course, it’s vengeance!
Cold is the mind,
But the Heart is fierce:
Not to act quick,
But to resist the tears.
With that fiery wrath,
Fill your life’s span —
Die with honor,
Remember the pain.
-------------------------
Not "With Greetings"...
No "greetings" here!
To bear the lies,
That follow chains,
The Spirit’s rise.
Cleanse your ear
From servant's trash,
Their foolishness,
A darkened flash.
Through all the noise,
They spread their lies,
In chaos’ guise.
-------------------------
The Inescapable Herd
The herd’s inescapable —
It only grows.
How vile it is
To hear the lows!
To look upon it —
Better blind your eyes!
If it’s not “greetings,”
Stay away — it's madness in disguise!
-------------------------
The Spiritual Path
Don’t take others seriously,
Their lives are outward, not within.
Direct your thoughts and focus, see,
The one true Spiritual Path begins.
-------------------------
The School Program
A sawmill, that’s the plan,
Logs and planks to shape with care,
To churn out only brutes and thugs —
They’re easiest to lead to despair.
-------------------------
Shame and Laughter
CowID is Shame,
Where Reason sleeps,
And Spirit's slain,
For most of them —
The BEASTS ascend.
The world’s just a joke... in the end.
-------------------------
Donbass
Donbass is "ready" —
The "liberator"
Sent all the men
To fight, the "warrior."
Not long they’ll thrash,
Struggling in vain —
To fight for orcs,
They’ll die in pain.
A shameful death,
Amidst the lies.
To the slaughterhouse —
Forward, fools, and die!
-------------------------
Animal Life
Animal life —
Wake up, be wise!
The wretched herd
Fills up with lies.
How few are true!
How many schemes,
Of filthy fiends,
To craft false dreams...
-------------------------
Locked in a Cell
Locked in a cell —
A TV cell,
The idiot box —
Chains tighter than steel.
The people, now slaves,
In its grip they kneel.
-------------------------
The bomber brings a world of peace—
On barren land, all strife must cease.
The world’s a target, clear and wide—
The sharpest shot will turn the tide.
-------------------------
The Vipers' Nest
A writhing nest of soulless snakes —
They squeeze the weak, then fight
For bigger shares and fatter stakes
With venom as their right.
The more you bite — the more you take,
The bigger grows your slice.
While smaller snakes, too slow to fake,
Are crushed without a price.
It’s warm and snug inside that pit,
If you can fight as one —
The fiercest get the biggest bit,
And feast until it’s gone.
This nest is vast — a crawling blight,
Best keep your distance, friend.
It’s always hungry, day and night...
Look out, you worm — defend!
-------------------------
Solitude
In solitude, you feel no drive
To change the self you know —
A place where daring dreams survive
And bolder visions grow.
The odds are good, the path is clear,
No need for joy's disguise.
If you're not chasing "pleasure" here,
Then muse and fire arise.
All bonds and noise — that tangled blade —
Can cut ambition down.
It carves through dreams so deftly made,
And leaves the spirit drowned.
But solitude preserves your spark,
Lets effort freely live.
Without creation — all is dark.
And life has naught to give.
-------------------------
Permanent Surrealism
What once was "social realism"
Now reeks of pure surreal.
Red banners fly — no enema,
But minds expect the deal!
A giant purge in noble guise,
It cleansed the brain with pride.
Its dogma banned all thought outside —
"Think only as prescribed."
The priest once swapped that script for "God,"
But sang the same old song:
"You're free," they say — with shiny gloss —
But kitsch still drags along.
That kitsch today wears trendy clothes —
A film, a flashy beat.
The world’s gone fascist — head to toes —
Yet dopes scream “choice!” in heat.
CowID unmasked that sacred "right,"
That "freedom" — such a mess!
We'll march again with heads held high…
Into the End, no less.
-------------------------
"Socialite": A Short-Lived Delight
The “socialite” tale won’t last for long —
It’s forced, it’s hollow, thin.
Fatigue builds up, the nerves go wrong,
And emptiness eats within.
Where purpose dies, no light survives —
Just Darkness takes the throne.
Their “grandeur” is just spoiled drives,
No Honor. No Thought. Just tone.
They serve the BEAST with plastic grace,
Obeying soulless brutes —
That polished mask, that shining face
Conceals corruption's roots.
They melt and mold to fit the role,
Their gloss a failing shield.
Only the Makers keep a soul —
Humble in form, yet steeled.
-------------------------
"Flowers of Life"
“Adults” have children — living toys —
To fill the void inside.
Their friendships fake, their pleasures noise,
They breed more loss and pride.
Be it in spirit or in coin,
That poverty runs deep.
The law of likeness will rejoin,
And leave its messy streak.
Only a surplus, fierce and bright,
Can raise a child to bloom —
That power born of inner light,
Of grown, unfaltering room.
Maturity — the truest grace,
No treasure shines the same.
With it, no fool shall take your place —
Without it, all’s a game.
-------------------------
The Law
The Law forever stands on guard —
It seals the prison gate.
Its rules are penned by demons hard
In "democratic" hate.
It weaves a thread of "rights" so thin
Through legal filth and shame —
A thread that binds the slave within
The system’s very name.
When three in four are poor and blind,
The world becomes a jail.
And "leaders" — bait for those inclined
To chase a holy grail.
For those who rise just build the chain
That keeps the masses bound.
No ancient tyrant need remain —
New laws will soon be found:
A flashing screen, a legal twist,
To blur the core of life.
While in the shadows, evil fists
Prepare the next world strife.
Degeneration codified —
That’s Law’s true, hidden face.
It only acts with wrath and pride
When crushing truth or grace.
Through acts and "bylaws" they deploy,
They rape the world by ink —
True terror wears a clean decoy.
They lie more than you think.
So take your "sacred constitution"
And flush it down the drain.
When judged with honest resolution,
It screams: "They kill again!"
That war and CowID made it plain —
The filth is system-wide.
Obeying BEASTS brings only shame,
Unless you’ve lost your mind.
The Law is written for the ass —
Not minds that dare to shine.
The Soul alone can break that glass
And race toward the Divine.
-------------------------
"Life's So Good!" — this phrase could sum
The state of most we see.
For madness speaks with keys to some,
In waking delirium, free.
All those who prattle, lost and low,
They kill the mind with lies.
"Normal" here is just a show —
In Hell, the noise defies.
Through intuition, Truth will free
From mind's deceiving trap.
You’ll see the fools in misery,
Trapped in their verbal crap.
-------------------------
Pennyless as an Endangered Breed
We’ve got the cash, but greed holds sway,
A wicked force through every dime.
The common folk won’t dare to say —
In them, the pennyless is crime.
But is it madness, when they lack?
Here greed’s a "norm," and so it grows,
The stench of filth will lead them back,
Teaching slaves to serve their woes.
School will teach them, all in line,
Few realize the truth they’re sold:
For cash, they bend — a twisted spine,
And only fools will stoop for gold.
-------------------------
School
To trust in science, bow and bend,
Is what they teach — no other way.
They call it school, but in the end,
Hell won’t let you stray — just eat decay!
Decay of thought, where slavery’s hid
Behind a “light” that’s full of lies.
In “democracy,” a tyrant's bid,
The school’s true goal is stunted minds.
False science preached by proto-priest,
While Spirit’s heresy is banned.
The rack and stake are now deceased,
But Bred Decay strikes harder, unplanned.
-------------------------
The Global Pen
The sheep’s grown used to this foul pen,
It feels like home, where guts are thinned,
Shorn and led to slaughter's door.
CowID's the sign, and so is war —
A first step taken. The pen will grow,
Not a red flag, but a white will show.
They'll widen it, with poison stronger,
As the media attacks, it stinks longer.
White flag, with red cross clearly seen,
Look around — all here’s in vain, obscene.
The beasts, through media, drive them on,
The sheep don’t care — it’s all a con.
-------------------------
Lie Upon Lie
Lie upon lie, and let them grow —
And you'll build a "wonderful" world, you know.
But dog’s dung is all you’ll find,
Where falsehood's idol rules the mind.
And on top, the MADNESS reigns,
Wild and, at times, a twisted gain.
For every question, the answer's clear —
More lies piled on, the plague is here.
-------------------------
Agony of the World
What to do in this agony,
Complain, or still wait
For cheese that’s free,
As the world’s twisted fate?
Spirit’s desire,
With the belly on stake,
Considers this fire
The law we must make.
-------------------------
The Few Are Right
The few are right, but praised, they won’t be,
They’ll be hated, not set free.
To honor them? The traitor's way,
Is what the world will choose to say.
Being right is dangerous,
To the dull, the voiceless, furious.
But with the traitors, oil's applied,
And “cheerful” is the lie they hide.
-------------------------
The Fog of Infernality
To "accept reality,"
That is, infernality —
One must become a creature,
With a mind that's lost to feature.
-------------------------
Globalization
The simple SLUDGE —
The sheep are glad.
The pen’s a grudge —
The vermin trim them bad.
Then comes the skewers —
"Care," they cry aloud.
The sheep are sure,
To Madness they’re bowed.
-------------------------
Bitter Consolation
A bitter joy —
To write a rhyme:
It takes some strain,
Silence leads to grime.
To burn the rot —
A task too steep.
Fortune’s tale,
In soulless heaps.
So many are soulless,
Bigger every day.
The time is here —
Rot will burn away.
The sun grows stronger,
Shining, it will burn,
Turning all to ash,
The foul, decaying urn.
-------------------------
"Carefree Childhood"
A play of the children
By the rotting slaves —
At home, they’ll meet
Hell, crafted by knaves.
Their fate they’ll destroy,
As if they're the foe.
They’ll "love" them with lies
And lies they'll bestow.
The family’s a mess,
If slavery's not known.
All is made of spite,
"Kindness" overthrown.
Falsehood veils the shame,
Truth’s long been erased.
You’ll step out, half-dead,
To a life laid to waste.
-------------------------
Final Stop
"Men are like dice: we throw ourselves forward into life."
— Jean-Paul Sartre
Sartre was wrong — you’re not the one
Who casts the dice beneath the sun.
It’s vermin hurling lies instead,
And you slip with the herd ahead.
This farce of life won’t shift the game —
Chance plays no role in slime and shame.
Through lies, the blind and slow all crawl,
Toward Decay, through salt — and fall.
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All poems are located at address https://vykhovanets.yzz.me