The Grimace of Darkness, or “To Be or Not to Be”
A shabby little world so small,
With minds so weak, so dull, so pall.
But you’re not first, and not alone,
Before the GRIMACE dark has shown.
Into depression, down you fall;
Not first to write the tragic call.
If dreams you chase — you’re deemed insane,
In Darkness, dreaming’s no great strain.
Believe me — “normal” world is bleak,
Its falsehoods strong, its truths so weak.
Forget the lies, the poor, the cursed —
Not helplessness, but worse.
The problem isn’t just to lack,
But solve it firm — and never back.
The only way to break this myth —
Is simply this: NOT TO BE.
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Digestive Truth
Be firm and sharp — no evil feed,
Reject its poison, block its seed.
Evil cycles, always same,
Fail to see — you play the game.
Fascisms shift their masks and lies,
Changing forms, but truth still dies.
To fools they shove a filthy drip —
A brainwashed mind begins to slip.
To make a rotten mind “the norm,”
Call madness protest — cold, lukewarm.
Old story — fascism’s horde
Devours all, burns every sword.
Expose the beast, resist the blight,
Unequal strength in darkest fight.
Noble souls receive no rest—
Death and torment crown the best.
Be sharp, be firm, be just, be true,
With honor, conscience shining through.
The Darkness chokes when you declare
You won’t become its feed or fare.
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Look Deep?
“Look deep,” they say —
But the root’s decayed...
You stand lost in fear and pain
Among the graves again:
Zombies finished all,
Lies crushed the wall.
Fools have fallen far below —
To rot where no lights glow.
Inside — the answers wait.
The root? No — light’s the gate.
Outside, for all with “cheers,”
The path is lined with sneers.
Time’s short — don’t walk to rot,
All is lost in that dark spot.
You seek the few, but can’t you find?
How many in the muck, confined?
So few... Go deep inside —
There’s truth where darkness died.
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We
We—we’re taxmen, Judas crew,
Fools and scum, lost through and through.
Monsters bow to Darkness’ reign—
That’s why all our endless pain.
Few defy the Night’s cold scorn,
All baptized in shame, forlorn.
Rot spreads wide, decay profound,
Mind and Spirit crushed, unbound.
No Last Judgment from the book—
Sun will burn each iron hook
That binds the mind; around, no soul...
Into Flame, these lifeless roll.
Fire fears no soul that's true—
Only shells without a clue
Burn away. That’s Satan’s path,
Claiming gods but stoking wrath.
We—we’re taxmen, Judas slaves:
Forever trapped in Hell’s dark caves.
Few will cross to worlds anew,
Once this cesspool’s burned through.
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The Brewery Brews the Beer
The brewery brews its beer,
The box of lies stews fear:
“Two in one” — live happy, blind,
Sober truth? You’re left behind.
Cop, official, fake doctor guard,
All protect CowID’s yard.
Enemies surround the scene,
Huge the score — “AIDS” won’t sleep.
Enemies bare teeth, alert,
The box of lies will save—assert.
Trust it and you’re safe, they say,
Doubt it? You’re a lost stray.
Belief in fiends is now the norm,
Anything else? The brain’s deform.
The box brews lies like bitter beer;
The brewery’s God — don’t interfere!
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Know Yourself
Know yourself — escape the snare,
The alchemy from Hell’s despair.
Hellhounds claim their fleeting prize
When you send yourself to lies,
Seduced by others’ foolish schemes,
Mixed for beasts, not for your dreams,
Your mind eclipsed, lost in the fray.
In Bedlam, be yourself, obey:
Your Spirit’s core — the answering Light,
Reject all that feeds the night.
Say “No” to Hell — begin to break
The chains that bind; your soul’s at stake.
But if you feed on foreign lies,
Your soul, my friend, will surely die.
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Free Cheese!!!
The world’s a trap — fools rush to seize,
Into the mousetrap with such ease.
If not a sellout, slime you’ll wear —
A broken trough of snot and care.
That trough is cracked, it’s worn and old,
The mousetrap’s lies are bought and sold.
And deeper still — a hidden pit,
A second floor where vultures sit.
Beneath it lies a third abyss,
Dragging down those who still resist.
The stench of this vile world offends —
Is this the world? Or is it hell’s end?
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To Protest Is No Sin
To protest means you’re not deceived,
Resisting keeps your light retrieved.
But if you moan for no good cause,
You’re foolish — trapped in empty laws.
You won’t obey the dark commands,
And guard your soul with steady hands.
Believe the fiends — you feed the Hell,
Where endless torments make you dwell.
Creation and the fight unite,
When Darkness spreads across the night.
If pride rules and routine’s near,
No spark of art — just empty sneer.
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David Icke
Watch David Icke, and read him well—
A master versed in fiends’ dark spell.
Dream of Light amid the vile,
Resist the lies and fears that rile.
Dreaming’s weak — you must engage
Your mind, your gut, to break the cage.
This world’s a filth where serpents reign,
Their goal: to kill the soul’s own flame.
The fight must take a different shape,
New paths of thought you must create.
Though troubled years will come and go,
The scum must still be fought — you know.
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Unread Books
Unread books — just little trash,
Most bind the mind in chains that clash.
Full truth? No chance to get it through—
The editor’s a fiendish crew.
Not an editor, but a beast,
Set by Evil, to say the least.
To feed the rot and spread the blight,
They crush free thought out of sight.
The fewer seeds of meaning found,
The easier to keep minds bound.
So silence every sprout that grows,
And let the dull routine impose.
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Baron Münchhausen’s Method
Drowning deep in lies and mire?
There’s a way to rise much higher!
Grab your hair—still hear the light,
Calling through the endless night.
Spirit pulls—you know it’s true,
All the rest is rotten goo.
If you bear the Evil’s spite,
Time to soar into the light!
Pulled upward—now your flight must last,
Far above the shadow cast.
Wretched hell will steal your soul,
If you sink without control.
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Cataclysms
Cataclysms march—fascism’s stride,
Everywhere it claims its pride.
A half-leader’s cruel enema,
Forced in minds—no true schema.
Friendship’s scarce, almost a myth,
Fascism’s end, its final pith.
Monsters strike with lies precise,
Falsehood reigns—a godlike vice.
Lowest depths now clearly shown,
CowID’s war has deeply grown.
Blood runs cold from filthy lies,
Total shit in truth’s disguise.
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The soul must strive — or fade away,
Preserving light in depths of night.
Or else, the Filth will win the day,
And crush the spirit, bleating, "Right."
Once human — now they're hollow shells,
Who bowed before the Beast’s deceit.
See through the fog the False One spells,
And never kneel at Evil’s feet.
You serve the Goat when you comply,
When "duty" leads your blinded track,
When you let Darkness pass you by,
And praise the world that's lost the knack.
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The most important thing on Earth is the education of slaves
The Earth’s prime task — to raise a slave,
To train the mind to fear the breath.
"Obedience" — the law they crave,
And Evil speaks — you serve to death.
The "mind" they mold with silent chains,
Far stronger than the ones of steel.
With every age, this filth remains —
More vile, more proud of how you kneel.
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They teach you fear — then call it grace.
You die alive — and love your place.
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OverTime
Timelessness — beyond the clock,
There’s an Over-Time — dwell there.
Leave behind the hell-bound shock,
Time is soaked in blood and prayer.
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Time is blood. Step out. Transcend.
Only fools serve such an end.
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Hazy — Holy:
World and Soul.
Under tyrants —
Hell's control.
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Fog or Light — you make the call.
Serve the Beast — or stand tall.
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Soulless slaves
The docile slave goes off to war,
Deceived by lowborn fiends and liars.
He lost his self — and nothing more —
Drowned in a swamp of choking mires.
The docile slave took poison fast,
The fear injected — no resistance.
His life? Just waves of terror, cast
On soul and mind — with no assistance.
The docile slave passed every test —
From schools that dull and numb the brain.
A coward in a suit and vest,
Doomed offspring of a dying chain.
The docile slave breaks his own sons,
So they obey like broken tools.
And thus the breeding never's done —
Of soulless slaves for soulless rules.
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They train the kids to crawl and bow —
No soul remains. Just meat — for now.
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Cargo fascism
For “Motherland”? For Putler’s crew —
For yachts and gilded halls.
Cargo-fascism — evil’s zoo,
Dumb beasts in Hitler’s thralls.
A colony now plays pretend —
To be an empire bold.
Its madness bares a rotten end —
Insanity grown cold.
**You “win” in asylums only —
No more than that, you see.
**The nation sleeps, defeated, lonely —
It kills its own soul silently.
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You "fight for pride"? You die for gold.
The slave obeys — the lie grows bold.
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Something like "ethology"
"Ethology"? Not meant for souls
Born in hell but bearing light.
The fiendish horde plays twisted roles,
With “science” cloaked in fake insight —
Rotting lies in scholar’s scrolls.
“Psychology” — the devil’s dish,
Served by ghouls with soulless eyes.
These vampires drain the will to wish,
And breed dumb crowds through age-old lies.
Freuds and other twisted freaks
Have clouded mind and dimmed the flame.
But if for Freedom your heart speaks —
Then damn their tales and name their shame.
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They feed you Freud and call it truth —
While sucking dry your soul and youth.
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White "Papuans"
The “tribals” smile and nod along,
To every lie, to every wrong.
Dumbed down and stripped of every clue —
The wise, to them, are threats to sue.
There’s hordes of these — the witless kind,
Half-formed in body, lost in mind.
A real tribe lives with soul and ground,
Not in this slaughterhouse compound.
They turn whole nations into pens,
By threats alone — no need for sense.
The lies are cheap, absurdly stale,
Yet mass-produced beyond the pale.
Their ornaments aren’t beads or clay —
But filthy lies they wear all day.
They swallow every twisted word,
Like beasts who never found the third.
**And every forecast ends in grief —
Dull minds beyond our bold belief.
**That’s why this world — so proud, so cursed —
Devours its lies and asks for worse.
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They bow to lies and call it fate.
The beast obeys — the wise breed hate.
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Overton's Gap
A window breaks —
“Progress,” they claim.
But evil makes
The rules — and game.
The pressure grows,
No end in sight.
To feast on those?
Not “normal” — right?
But norms decay —
The door's ajar.
You’ll eat one day...
But death beats that by far.
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“Progress” shouts through shattered glass —
While Hell reshapes the feeding class.
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Something like "this is where souls gain experience"?
“Souls gain experience here”?
What twisted kind of joke?!
Hell is no school — it’s sheer
Abuse beneath the smoke.
If torment breeds “new wisdom,”
Then reason’s lost its name.
A demon wears the system
And teaches souls through shame?
No! Hell must be dismantled —
That’s truth the Spirit knows.
This filth is not to “handle,”
But burned — till nothing grows.
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No soul needs Hell to learn what's true —
It burns the weak, enslaves the few.
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Absurd
“Songs” and “dances” on command —
Fascist circus, vile and planned.
“Sing” obedience, bow your knees,
Like new “Germans” in the breeze.
New Führer wears a mask,
Chains unchanged — the same old task:
Propaganda, cops, and scum,
Thugs who crawl and beat the drum.
Sing, dance — forget the pain,
But once you’ve lost your mind’s domain,
You’re scurf beneath their cruel clutch,
And villains tear where skin is such.
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Sing lies, bow down, forget your shame —
The fascist dance plays still the same.
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Now...
Today, the Satanists speak loud —
Dr. Goebbels set the stage.
New fascists gather like a crowd,
A spiral down of rage.
The Führer’s smaller, weaker now,
The law of rot’s in play.
Only skins survive somehow,
While minds just fade away.
The trend is clear: a global camp,
A deathhouse dressed in lies.
Red Cross on white — a cruel stamp
For those with fractured minds.
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New fascists speak with devil’s voice —
Decay's law claims, no other choice.
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Change
Poison runs deep in veins —
Decay’s own venom flows.
This is our cursed age —
A spiteful, traitor’s show.
Few the minds that still survive,
The Spirit trapped in gloom.
Is this a nightmare’s lie,
This crushing heap of doom?
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Poison floods the veins of time —
A cursed age, a rotten crime.
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Propaganda
Death squads march in shadows deep —
Propaganda’s choking grip.
Think for yourself or just believe?
Or mind will take the trip.
Faith will turn against the soul,
To creatures foul and cruel.
Lies and fear beyond control —
Disaster is the rule.
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Dark squads kill with lies and fear —
Mindless faith feeds death’s frontier.
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New Fascism
Dr. Goebbels, new and sly —
The Führer’s just a clown.
A loser bred to falsify,
No rank can keep him down.
The zombibox rules the mind —
The clown leads media’s game.
Decay of thought, they grind,
Darkness needs a broken frame.
Lies are fascism’s sharpest blade.
It’s always been this way.
Now lies flood deep, a super-lax,
Washing brains in endless sway.
The Spirit’s cast out too —
This genocide’s core truth.
All signs of doom emerge anew,
When Mind’s been killed in youth.
Unnoticed, it creeps close —
As always, stealthy, cold.
One final step — the New Camp calls,
Forever to hold.
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New Goebbels, clown Führer’s face —
Lies the weapon, mind’s disgrace.
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"Collective Goebbels"
The “Collective Goebbels” now —
Putler led the vile start.
Lies spread wide, they’ll burn somehow
The world of fools and bought hearts.
Few are sane — genocide grows,
Its fruits feed death’s parade.
So all is lost when scum compose
The crowd that’s blindly swayed.
Only feelings rule the herd —
The deer’s mark, pure and clear.
“Intellect” is just a word
For others’ thoughts they cheer.
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Collective Goebbels — Putler’s spawn,
Lies so thick, the truth is gone.
Masses numb, a walking herd,
Brains dead, minds crushed by every word.
Few still think — the rest decay,
Genocide’s dark price they pay.
If the scum run all the show,
Hope is lost — just so you know.
Feelings reign, the deer all blind,
“Intellect” is left behind.
They worship lies, not their own mind —
Slaves to fools, forever blind.
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With "Greetings"...
I come to you with “greetings” grim —
Without madness, life’s a lie.
Falsehood answers all, so dim —
Easy way to break the mind.
So liars mad, a throng amassed,
In Hell’s world they claim their throne.
No tridents needed for the task —
Just deceit to rule alone.
Darkness reigns on every side,
Fools obey and bow in fear.
What’s the end? No place to hide —
Hell is built, the path is clear.
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Served right, if vile Evil's snare
Has trapped you, banishing your core,
Making you a trusting bear,
Believing filth you can't ignore.
The truth is simple: Spirit Pure —
Foundation strong, the Mind obeys.
Shun the Hell’s enslaving lure,
Respect only intuition’s ways.
It serves the Spirit, sharp and bright—
Don’t you blink, don’t lose your way.
The world has sunk below the night—
Root out fear, let it decay.
There’s a way: go deep inside,
You’ll find the edge where lies dissolve.
Where terror fails, and doubts subside—
Only Spirit stands, alive and bold.
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About True Friendship
“If you’re a slave, you cannot be a friend.
If you’re a tyrant, friendships meet their end.”
— Friedrich Nietzsche
The myth of love and friendship stands—
A fable held by slavish hands:
“To us, it’s all, our sacred call!”
But only the lone stoic walks tall,
He alone can forge a bond
With Truth itself — the soul beyond.
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The Executioners’ Lie
A drop of “truth” in poison brewing,
Laced with petty bits and scraps —
That’s how demons keep on stewing
Lies for butchers, traps for saps.
Earth is steeped in toxic potion —
Layered thick through age and age.
Fumes distort the mind’s devotion,
Till man dies in war or cage.
Bullet, axe — that’s grown outdated.
Boost the lie — and crack the skull.
Not with scars — with minds invaded,
Turn the world to screaming dull.
Watch them gnaw each other, bleeding —
War and CowID showed the trend.
Not a world — a rot, unheeding.
Bow to it — and that's your end.
Bow — and sell your soul completely.
Trust in Evil — you’re a clown.
Friend, ignore the lies discreetly —
Buy their tale — they’ll gun you down.
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Lie-fed and Led
A drop of truth — then poison reigns.
Obey the lie — they fry your brains.
Bow to rot — your soul is sold.
Truth resists. The rest grows cold.
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The So-Called “Deep Folk”
"Deep people," you say?
More like scum on display —
Idiots, loonies, the proudly insane.
The Kremlin keeps lying,
They march off to dying —
CowID, then war. Drown in sorrow and pain.
And the "smart" ones? A joke.
If he lies — he's a crook.
A traitor, a worm, worth less than a dime.
And the herd? Growing fast.
The liar? Outclassed —
More twisted each day.
But speak truth — that’s a crime:
You’ll rot in a cell doing fascist-fed time...
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Deep Folk? Deep Rot.
They die for lies and call it pride.
Truth gets jailed. The rest — just slide.
Bow to fear — or rot inside.
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All poems are located at address https://vykhovanets.yzz.me