Трындёж о свободе в Тотальном Рабстве

Трындёж о "свободе" в Тотальном Рабстве

"Самые глубокие противоречия между людьми обусловлены их пониманием свободы".
Карл Ясперс.


Понимание "свободы"?
Что за чушь! — одни невзгоды
Нам планируют ублюдки,
Обернув всё в прибаутки,
Подлой ложью всё приправив.
В чём она? Во лжи отраве?
За еду и кров работе?
Идиот на идиоте —
Вот "свободы" пирамида,
Наверху же нелюдь-гнида.
Скрыта гнида от народца:
Лишь с подобными бороться,
Умножая этим рабство,
Усиляя Ложь, тиранство, —
Вот судьбина идиотов
Под пятою сумасбродов.



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To a Poet

Breathe—while breath remains.
Write—while ink still stains.
Fears and lies surround—
Phantoms all around.
Breathe—so you may write.
Write—so you keep light.
Dying comes too fast
If you're stuck in Past.



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Soldiers

For ranks, they'll pay the price—
No problem, none at all!
The brass will count, think twice,
Yet conscience won’t recall.

So much “meat” for taking,
Do with it as you will.
The war keeps profits waking—
It never foots the bill.

The enemy? Who cares?
A neighbor suits just fine.
Brave but sold in shares—
War’s double-think design.



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Fascism and Cataclysm

As a whole, "we stand up tall,
Growing stronger day by day".
But divided, doomed to fall—
Rot in fear and false display.

No horizon, none at all—
Genocide is all we see.
We will perish, others call—
Feeding Lies and Shame’s decree.

Nature fades, it takes its toll—
Bringing doom, a final chime.
Earth won’t shelter twisted souls
Bowing down to fascist crime.



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Like the Rest!

"Be like all!"—but all are rotten,
Not the best of arguments.
Fools make jokes, yet all forgotten—
"All" have lost their common sense.

"Nothing’s real!"—but all is faking,
"Nothing’s real"—the latest brand.
Madness grips the world, remaking
Truth to dust and lies to sand.

Few escape this grand delusion,
Fleeting sparks in memory’s mist.
Shame, decay, and false inclusion—
"All" are swine that still exist...



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Sheeple-virus

CowID: the world’s a crude cartoon—
So dull, obscene, enraged, insane.
We mourn as Culture meets its doom,
Drowned out by media’s dull refrain.

Corrupt reports now rule the land,
No higher power left to see.
The few who think can barely stand—
Their blood runs cold from this disease.



--- Total 6 poems. ---