The Rebel Spirit
A rebel’s soul
Will take its toll
On ears that fear the voice of might,
For wicked slaves adore control
That tears the veil of blind delight.
Their minds are chained,
Deprived of light.
Through lies, they turn the fools to dust,
And thus the world, once burning bright,
Becomes a wasteland choked with rust.
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What Is a Crowd?
Addicts craving fiction,
Feeding on the lies,
Drenched in dark affliction,
Drowned in fear’s disguise.
Balms are swiftly given—
Patch the wounds, make peace.
Truth is unforgiven—
Honest souls won’t freeze.
Addicts craving fiction,
Withdrawal’s near at hand,
For their souls were wasted,
Lost to shifting sand.
Madness turns to prisons—
Global, cold, and grim.
Till the feast of demons
Ends in ruin’s hymn.
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The Hymn of Ruin
The Hymn of Ruin—souls can hear it,
Feel it creeping, drawing near.
If we bow to heresy's spirit,
Soon the void will claim us here.
Foolish worlds collapse to cinder,
Stone and steel will rot away.
Mindless cattle—new law’s splendor,
Branded slaves without a say.
Plague of CowID made it clearer,
Wars confirmed the fate they weave.
Gnawed and gelded, lice sing nearer—
Rotten minds in filth believe.
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Transformation into NOTHING
The mind, through Heresy— a sieve!
Add sticky fear, and thus we live,
And turn the world to dust and ash,
A fleeting dream, a final crash.
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Transformation in Dark NOTHING
Through The False — see Foolish coming!
Mix in fear, cold and Black—
And the world won’t e’er come back.
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Sharp Rise in Egg Prices
The price of eggs has soared so high—
For poor folks, less to eat again.
They bow before the wicked lie,
And life turns harder now for them...
A man-made scheme in full control—
The grip of death will tighten fast.
Deception reigns—its final goal:
A flood of lies too vast to grasp.
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I See and I Know
I see it, I know—
My verses will show.
That’s work, that’s my duty!
Yet sorrow’s sharp beauty
Still rings, never fading,
For fate is invading
My soul with its fire—
Not lost in the mire
Of this world of lies,
But where spirits rise,
Where demigods reign.
A poem may guide—
If you don’t comply...
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Slow Boil
The frog had heard a tale so grim—
A pot where heat would slowly rise.
Yet she believed it was a whim—
Until she boiled... to her surprise.
You’ll see the truth when it's too late:
The cook pretends to feed us all.
But beasts are food—he sets their fate.
His goal’s to boil, not to enthrall!
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"Novelty"
The "new" fool rises once again
To spread the Lies of those in power,
And chains grow tighter on all men—
Their nonsense chills us by the hour.
The few who see—too rare to save,
A fading kind, a dying breed.
The world is lost, beyond the grave—
The Depths laid bare by CowID’s deed.
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False Religions
"If triangles had their own god’s might,
He’d surely be a three-sided sight."
— Montesquieu
How weak the gods that men devise,
Mere foolish food, absurd and vain.
Their holy books repeat old lies—
Three lines, and all begins to wane.
This world is built on dull deceit,
Its masses led by fraud and fear—
To slave for crumbs, accept defeat,
To die in wars, or rot right here.
They trust in myths, they kneel and wait
For bliss beyond, yet fail to see:
They’ve never truly lived to date—
Like salted slugs, they crawl to sea.
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No savior will come, none will aid—
So fight as you can ‘gainst the Wrong.
But Death is the judge, and it’s weighed:
Were you just a fool all along?
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Crystals of Truth Amid Mountains of Mire
They’ll write up tons of hollow lines—
Editors rule with careful hand,
Selecting all that twists and blinds
The soul, so darkness grips the land.
They lift up ego, sharpen guile,
And heap deception on the pyre.
Confusion blooms—a numbing smile,
While minds are drowning in the mire.
This trash was made to cloud the sight,
Truth’s crystals lost within the lies.
The media now owns the night,
As Bedlam feeds the world’s disguise.
So finding truth—just slim remains—
Like searching needles in the stains.
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Decay
To twist your soul, just heed the lies,
Let nonsense fill your ears and eyes.
To kill the mind—obey once more,
Drink poison words that Evil pours.
Decay will spread, enslaving all,
And you will help the darkness crawl.
For greed alone you play the game,
All else erased without a shame.
The world is blind, corrupt, untrue,
And those who see are far too few.
No handful here can turn the tide—
Decay will grow. It won’t subside.
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Managing the Mob
The ministers all play their game,
The parliament's a joke, a shame.
The president’s a mindless fool—
The mob just loves a puppet’s rule.
The ministers don’t waste their stay—
No time for pride, just loot and play.
Their terms are short, so steal it fast,
Before the chance has quickly passed.
The media now runs the show—
The fools consume the filth they throw,
Obeying plans of those in power,
Drunk on lies from hour to hour.
Yet behind the scenes, the beast
Tightens chains and won’t release.
Bound by dirt, they nod and crawl—
Obey, and you may rise—or fall.
The tale’s old, but still it grows,
And madness deepens as it flows.
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Defense by Honor in the Reign of Impudence
"Impudence is stronger where defense is weaker."
— Marcus Porcius Cato the Younger, 1st century BC
Where ignorance is growing,
Bold arrogance will reign.
A herd, unworthy knowing,
Devours lies again.
They'll swallow wars and "plagues",
Embrace the grand deceit.
But Honor never begs,
Though sinking in defeat.
So wear the Helm of Honor—
Defend your Soul with pride.
And stand as one with others,
Whose truth is on their side.
For souls may yet be lifted,
If kindred hearts unite.
Don’t heed the world, it's twisted—
Deception veils the light.
Learn well to spot the fearless,
For few will still remain.
Among the lost and tearless,
Keep striving through the pain.
Though odds may seem mistaken
When cowards form their horde.
Your shield must not be taken—
They’ll never breach your sword.
To die with honor—glory!
No fate is worthier.
While madness tells its story,
And drives the herd to stir.
Let Honor be your answer,
You’ll find it in your soul.
Not in the slaves of cancer—
The blind, who fear control.
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The Thick Rope of Pseudoscience
"Knowledge expands ignorance."
— Anaximenes, 6th century BCE
Deception, fraud, and misbelief
Are twisted in a mighty rope.
It's thick, though rotting underneath,
Yet minds still cling to it in hope.
The world hangs high, the Pit below—
The yawning Hell, the deadly traps.
But ignorance will grow and grow...
And when it snaps—they all collapse.
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The Herd That Bows to Beasts
The filth-mass waits for beasts’ command—
They’ll shout out “Go!” without delay.
With wars, deceit, and plagues at hand,
They'll wear us down—we’ll waste away.
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False Religions
How absurd the structures seem
Of false beliefs, their gods so cheap—
A fool’s feast, a hollow dream,
Too dull for minds that dare to think.
Three vague lines in sacred scrolls,
And all their writings turn to dust.
The world is built on blinded souls,
Deception thrives, commands their trust.
They bow, obey, and blindly wait,
Toil for pennies, die in wars,
Perish from injections' fate,
As lies consume them more and more.
They dream of life that never ends,
Yet never lived on Earth at all.
Like salted slugs, they crawl in chains—
Together sliding to their fall.
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Factory forging: fools in the press!
Dummies are ready—Chief Devil’s impressed.
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Assholes and masons
Masons plot? That’s just illusion —
We "elect" our kings in play.
Fools believe in grand delusions —
Masons love it all the way.
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