A "Miracle" Song? Not Quite That Strong
A “miracle” song—what a claim,
Yet poetry’s barely the heart of the game.
The music comes first, as they try to enchant,
Luring the crowd with a cheap, hollow chant.
The lyrics, once artful, now turn into jokes,
A parody drowned in the trash for the folks.
What once held meaning is lost in the beat—
Dumbed down to keep the masses on heat.
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Cupid’s Aim
When Cupid strikes, his arrow flies,
And reason fades before your eyes.
Love’s old law—no way to pass:
You’ll end up as a foolish ass.
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TV Trash Bin
Their TV tales are bold and bright—
A paradise is soon in sight!
Yet all they do is flush the minds
Of fools who fall for empty lines.
They pour their lies straight in your ears,
Call piss "divine" to mask your fears.
Their goal is clear—your soul to break,
For weak minds bend when thoughts misplace.
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Liposuction of the Mind
Liposuction of the mind’s a dream—
A cure that's nowhere to be seen.
In fascist filth, through lies we’ve strayed,
Now lost in what they’ve falsely made.
We need to drain the evil fat,
From minds where wicked thoughts are at.
Without it, Earth will soon be lost,
Under the Goat’s oppressive cost.
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Do you control your phone, my friend,
Or does it lead you to the end?
You’ll face addiction, it’s a fact,
As it pulls at your mind, intact.
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The Bomber Brings Peace
The bomber brings peace from the skies—
On barren land, no discord lies.
The world’s a target, clear and wide,
Where a sharp shot will turn the tide.
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Faith in “God” is part of game,
Fake science too, just the same.
The spirit’s voice has been suppressed,
For the system’s rule is a beast’s quest.
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Hard to Learn – but Easy Dying
To learn is hard—the words are burning,
Their goal—the LAST AND FINAL FIGHT.
Yet every age keeps blindfold yearning,
Believing "leaders" show the light.
But he who leads—the Lord of Sorrow,
He thrives on torment, death, and pain.
The lie conceals a dark tomorrow,
And thus, its value must remain.
For BEASTS who feed on death and slaughters,
No reason matters—just the feast.
A little falsehood, tripled orders,
And DEAD SOULS march to kill the "beast."
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Kinda "Success"
Our fool is drained, his strength is gone,
Just waiting for "success" to shine.
So many crave it—yet it's won
By those who trade their soul and mind.
If you won’t sell—your odds are thin,
To "rise" is near impossible.
You won’t achieve a single thing
If truth makes even friends feel ill.
But vent the steam, don't stir up hate,
Let sarcasm be mild and neat.
Just nudge a bit—don’t agitate,
Forget decay and blind deceit.
Then, maybe, crowds will grant you fame.
Decadence? Sure, but stay in line.
Don’t dare to shout, "The world's insane!"—
And fate might toss you a few dimes.
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Open Wide the Faithful Gate
Bow and pray—don’t hesitate,
Worship now, before it’s late.
God is gone—since time’s creation,
Only demons rule the nation.
Is the world a wretched mess?
Satan’s work—no more, no less.
Still, you trust the priest’s decree,
Scholars’ tales—deceptive, free.
Are they lying for the Lord,
Or does Satan pull the cord?
Doubt is dead, no questions rise,
Gutless minds make sheep of lives...
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Literary "Ghosts"
Dumas had "ghosts"—a silent crew,
He wrote a lot, and so they drew.
The habit spread through every nation,
A thriving trade—pure exploitation.
Some "authors" steal with no regret,
Their finest lines were never penned.
Yet ghostwork yields no true perfection—
Just one more fraud in all directions.
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Hellish Bliss, or Flush 'Em Down
The fools’ own paradise stands tall—
It’s long been thriving.
Just few remain—mere men and all—
Where LIES are grinding.
They call it "God’s great world," you see,
A joke, for certain.
So go and flush them down with glee—
No rules, no burden.
A noble citizen you’ll be—
A pawn for scoundrels.
You’ll live till gray, but never free—
Among the HUNGRY.
For heads in heaven serve one call—
To chew and swallow.
And if you stand against them all—
Life pays you hollow.
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A New Strategy
Knock the tumbler, make it sway,
Shift its center—watch it fall!
"Simpleton" now sees the way,
What a breakthrough—best of all!
Tumbling dolls are everywhere,
Strength in numbers, dumb but loud.
Yet they’re built beyond repair,
Meant for wars of times long past.
But today, the fools hold might—
Crush their lies, don’t let them stand!
Tilt their balance, shift their fight—
End the slaughter, break their plan.
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The Hard Question of Reason
A fur-clad beast or mind that’s free?
Fake "science" spreads like leprosy.
Pavlov’s dogs are all around—
Two-legged ones, so well dumbed down.
Through deceit, they’ve reached the pit,
Yet they thrived and cashed on it.
Call the herd "a thinking nation"—
BEASTS require such persuasion.
Say "progress"—reason fades away,
And soon no mind will see the day.
That truth was clear with CowID’s game,
Where fools embraced their chains of shame.
A digital camp is on the rise,
The rats build walls, control the skies.
"AI" will serve the mindless masses—
Their final gift—before it crashes.
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"A-Grade" Preachers
The "honored" fools, so dull, so bleak,
Still teach us how to think and speak.
It would be kinder, truth be told,
To end them quick—just break the mold.
The more they breed, the worse they get,
No talent, just the same regret.
And fighting fools is growing tough—
Deception’s grip is strong enough.
Now lies are all the world can hear,
And reason fades—it disappears.
With every blow, the madness grows,
Till thought itself is laid to close…
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No to a World Gone Mad!
Not all thoughts are truly yours—
Lies hang heavy in the air.
Drowned in falsehood, lost in wars,
Reason gasps but finds no care.
Little left that’s truly real,
Madness spreads—a beast unfed.
Saying "no" takes iron will,
Truth is crushed by waves of dread.
No to tyrants, no to chains!
Shame to those who bow and serve!
Crying "no!" still hope remains—
NO—to Rot and Rule Absurd!
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The Sheepish World
Deceit and fear, betrayals, lies,
Corruption, darkness—filth unfurled.
Sheep stand in pens, with empty eyes,
Then march to slaughter, by command.
Just plant the myth of "freedom" deep,
And flocks will never break their chain.
But few refuse to be like sheep—
Their very presence sparks disdain.
And fewer still can stand the fight,
Defying all, they face the curse.
Like rare birds lost in endless night,
You'll find them where the world is worse.
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Fading into Summer
We drift into the endless fade,
Slaves to delusion, bound by fear.
No other fate for us is made—
The path we walk is crystal clear.
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The Measure of "Faith"
Faith is nothing but the leash,
The rest is nonsense, lies, and speech.
Your mind is lost in myths so blind—
Cast off the noise that clouds your mind!
Awaken instinct, trust your way,
The climb is hard, but don’t delay:
It’s not a heaven you will find,
But clarity, a sharpened mind.
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Absurdity
To the Moon they "fly" like wonders,
Spreading "plagues", the world’s unclean...
Is it just some minor blunders?
CowID showed the rot within.
Cargo-leaders drive the cattle,
Fools to slaughter, blind, betrayed.
Drowned in darkness, lost in battle,
Is the world beyond dismay?
Are there hopes for new ascension,
Or is madness all we see?
Will catastrophe’s dissension
Set the rotten spirit free?
Few oppose—their will unbroken,
Standing firm against decay.
They are few, yet not forsaken.
Not forsaken—till the day...
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The Sickle and the Stone
The clash of steel and stone grows weaker,
For stones are vanishing each day.
And when the last is gone, the reapers
Will sweep the fields without delay.
They’ll place that stone in halls of glory—
The toil will end, the fight be done.
But stand your ground, though hard and lonely,
And never yield to anyone.
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To Fly Is Simple
To soar the skies—what’s there to master?
A mole might take to flight one day,
And digging deep, yet learning faster,
It’ll forge ahead its way.
Beasts would strive with zeal unshaken
To end their evolution’s run.
But fools, by ancient filth forsaken,
Still dream Nirvana can be won.
The wise will rise and leave behind them
This madhouse, doomed to crash and burn.
Yet those who dwell where chains still bind them—
Their reckoning will come in turn.
This world’s an asylum, lost and broken,
Too many madmen, few who see.
So rise—if freedom is your token,
And fear no "god’s harsh penalty".
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In the Rashist Filth...
An old, gray nag, long past his glory,
Prepares to print his sacred lore.
"The crowd" will buy the same old story—
For fools believe it evermore.
Few minds remain, yet they’re excluded,
The “people” have no place for them.
And so, in darkness, undisputed,
All books were lost at fate’s command.
The Führer-madman keeps on preaching,
Three volumes filled with hollow lies.
But who recalls the past deceiving?
For now, this "people"—just a guise.
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Porridge, Masha—Fate of Ours
Eat your porridge, Masha dear,
Hear a tale of love and grace.
Yet beyond these stories here,
Good is lost without a trace.
All the world decays and crumbles,
Even fairy tales turn vile.
Modern ones are madman’s mumbles—
Have less cake, it’s not worthwhile.
You will need your strength, no question,
Through the Mire you’ll be led.
Fate allows no other direction—
Hell’s the path we all must tread.
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"Freedom" of Choice
Hitler, Stalin, Mao, Lenin,
Pol Pot, Mussolini’s lot...
Soon their paradise is pending—
Lay your neck beneath the slot.
Or, if you prefer, a hanging,
Or the rack—your choice is grand!
Is it freedom they are granting,
Or just Hell at your command?
CowID showed the world’s delusion,
How the "free" were bound in chains.
Now they hail AI’s intrusion,
Lies renewed with cold disdain.
A digital camp is rising,
Not for one, but all mankind.
Hell, by "choice," they are devising,
Where the warden’s gear-designed.
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Too Many Fools...
So many fools—who could have guessed?
Yet war has sealed their fate so grim.
For years, their land will know unrest,
And shame will never fade from them.
Will they atone? No, fools won’t bother—
A new führer will arise,
To preach "old values," like the other,
And blind them yet again with lies.
Again, he’ll "raise them from their knees,"
Again, they’ll march into the pyre.
No change will come—no hope, no peace,
For Folly's god is their empire.
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Olympics "twenty" slipped away,
Postponed a year—just one, no more.
The brutes bent all without delay,
For fools still rule this world’s décor.
And worse awaits—just watch them dreaming,
Their twisted minds know no restraint.
A führer raves, his madness screaming:
"We’ve risen strong!"—a bold complaint.
Now he proclaims his grand invasion,
Berlin must shake, D.C. must kneel!
But lies will soon outgrow persuasion,
And reason’s death will be their seal...
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The Trained Buffoon
A trained buffoon—half-beast, half-human,
A man in name, yet little more.
A scavenger, forever doomed and
Bound to serve the beasts in store.
The wretched sellouts fail to notice
They're mere prey within the snare.
Their masters’ grip is cold and soulless,
Though it feels like thinner air.
Waves unseen engulf their senses,
Sapping will both night and day.
Feeding on their drained defenses,
Stealing souls along the way.
But hear your Heart—its voice still lingers,
Whispering truths they want unknown.
Maybe then, through fate’s cold fingers,
You will claim what is your own...
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Self-Deception
Self-deception starts so early,
A veil for truths they cannot face.
For sheep stay mute while fires fury,
Content within their fenced embrace.
They tell themselves they're free and guided,
That fate is theirs to rule and steer,
Yet march in line—no choice provided,
Straight to the pot, year after year.
The ruthless ways are not for madness,
They shape a world where sheep obey.
And shepherds preach, in hollow gladness:
"Peace and labor! First of May!"
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Insanity
Insanity’s when flesh and bone
Suppress the soul, and leave it weak.
The fools are many, cold as stone—
Where inhumanity will speak.
Delusion, madness, fear that binds,
A venom’s grip, a poison’s seed.
The depths of evil’s cruel designs—
Our fate is lost, its course decreed.
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Fear
Fear has entered, then has gone,
But tyranny remains, lives on.
In youth, it’s taught as "order’s" way,
A truth they’re told, a price to pay.
It drives the mind to think no more,
Replaces thought with shadows’ lore—
And from that void, a twisted mind
Is shaped by greed, by fear, confined.
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I Remember a Lovely Moment
I remember a moment so sweet,
When we said goodbye, you and I.
For years, after that parting's defeat,
A different sorrow filled my sky.
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So Many Fools
There are many fools around,
Plus informants, watch your back!
Still believe in God’s profound?
He’s the horned one—take a crack!
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Folly Organized
Folly's organized and bound,
Built on lies that twist and twine.
Gaia’s lost, her will unwound—
To Moloch she’s confined.
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The Path Through Dread
The path goes through the dread, the mire,
The soul’s the essence, don’t inquire.
If lost along the way you stray,
Just follow on, though you may sway!
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The Game Is Lost
The game is lost, the deck is rigged,
No chance to win, no path to stray.
So throw the cards into their grins—
The ones who took the game away...
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The Way of "States"
A bureaucrat will feed you lies,
And bribes will fill the boss’s hand.
Corruption stays, the truth just dies—
That’s how all "nations" rule the land.
Fake states alone—no others here,
As CowID made clear to see,
When swarms of vermin served with cheer
A reign of lies and lunacy.
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Buried Talents
Burying talents, then grieving the loss,
Fooled by cheap lies and propaganda's gloss—
So many people have chosen that fate,
Tricked into silence, surrender, and hate.
But such is the price when the Spark is denied:
The world turns to filth, with the Light pushed aside.
Where there's no fire, no soul to stay strong—
Darkness devours, and evil lives long.
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Dancing on the Ice
Dancing, prancing on the sea—
Though it's frozen, can't you see?
Once it melts, you’re sinking fast.
Such is Bottom dance at last.
That’s the goal the beasts embrace,
And they’ve done it with finesse.
The ice is thinning—cracks in place,
And now comes the great distress.
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The "Holy" Trinity
The Trinity divides in three:
A god, a ghost, a "father" high.
But God is just a fantasy—
A mask beneath a servant's lie.
This world was shaped by beastly schemes,
By Lucifer, their king declared.
And all is wrapped in smoky dreams
Of false beliefs that none have dared.
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The Iron Lie
The tempered iron, sharp and cruel,
No longer suits a modern slave.
"Work hard, play smart, obey the rule —
You'll reach the heights you truly crave!
Just save and strive, and you shall rise,
Grow rich beyond your wildest thought..."
That’s how they rule — with gilded lies.
You’ll die beneath them, fool, for naught.
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Vileness
"Politeness is but a fig leaf for selfishness."
— Arthur Schopenhauer
A fig leaf won’t conceal the rot,
Nor hide the filth, nor mask the stain.
It’s time to end this—like it or not,
No life should drown in dirt and pain.
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The Futility of Life
The fuss of this futile life,
It weighs down, it’s all I dread.
Only slugs and the dullest strife
Rejoice in life, with minds half-dead.
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The Precious Broadcast
A precious show, too hard to bear,
To listen to this twisted air—
Clowns who serve the beasts with cheer,
Unmoved, uncaring, year to year.
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Gulliver’s Fall
Gulliver, once bold and grand,
Now a Lilliputian, less than planned.
The dwarfs are now the ones held high,
Read the new books—they'll tell you why.
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Song of Deceit
Sing, oh song, across the sky!
That sky is filled with lies that fly—
And drifting there, the foolish roam,
"Real men" lost in their false home.
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Hopelessness Without a Way
Hopelessness, with no true road,
Few will find themselves, their code.
The rest are lost in tangled lies,
A web of tricks beneath the skies.
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The End of the Path
The end of the path,
The spirit near,
Mind subdued,
Shunning all fear.
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Waste Not Your Strength
Much strength has gone to waste, I know—
Now focus, bring it to the fore:
Do all with zeal, with fiery glow—
In bold new dawns, as crowns restore.
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The Spread of Chaos
Rarely does a lie strike true,
The aim is fire across the view.
And later, all will drown in grime—
That’s how they spread the endless crime.
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All poems are located at address https://vykhovanets.yzz.me