In the End...

In the End...

A tale of horror is darker, crueler
Than what the dull crowd dares expect.
For in the end, the Beasts grow fouler,
And slaves grow dumber—more abject.

Beasts and slaves—no real exception,
Hope is scarce, the odds are grim.
Drowned in lies, they've lost redemption—
Honor's dead, so waste them all on a whim...



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The Cosmos

Its base—deceit.
Its glue—fear’s binding.
The boss—unfit.
Our fate—dust, winding.



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Truth and the Reign of Madness

"For truth, it is triumph enough to be accepted by the few who are worthy; to please the many is not its fate."
— Denis Diderot


Truth’s worth is never measured
By numbers in its wake.
The slaves adore false treasures,
Their minds consumed by fake.

Few dare to think—yet fewer,
Their voices fade to none.
Truth drowns in darkness, sewer—
The world is crude, undone.

CowID, war—it's showing,
The madness rules the stage.
A war on thought keeps growing,
A war of lies and rage.

Its end is near—Destruction,
The final storm is drawn.
Then comes the Reconstruction,
When filth is cast and gone.



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Breaking Yet Another Bottom

To hit rock bottom? That’s no feat.
But reaching lower—there’s the test.
To sell new lies and not repeat—
That takes a master of the jest.

The Press of Darkness strains and rallies,
Bureaucrats all march in line.
Decay’s an art—they need pure malice,
A beast that’s truly one of a kind.

CowID has shown—no lack of vermin,
Nor slaves who serve the grand deceit.
The smaller press now weaves perversions,
To spice the greater flood of sleet.

Thus, deeper down the pit was shattered,
The stench from underneath arose.
And now we all will breathe this tatter,
As life in filth forever flows.

A global Reich is fast unfolding,
A prison ruled by code and screen.
If lies keep rising, all-consuming,
Its gates will open—sharp and clean.



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Down...

The Church now serves the Devil’s throne,
The world is upside down.
The honest ones are crushed, dethroned—
Branded traitors, drowned.

One thing stays unshaken—
Shame will never cease.
Reason lies forsaken,
Slaughtered—rest in peace.

If a trace still lingers
In the minds of few,
It won’t change—just sink there,
Down to Hell’s own view!



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Life’s Unyielding Dullness

Life is dull—no doubt, no question,
For it thrives on false impressions.
Since our childhood, Beasts betray us,
Swapping truth for murk to slay us.

Mind is fragile, quick to wither,
So the future’s looking bitter:
Trade pure steel for rotting timber—
All will crumble to a cinder.



--- Total 6 poems. ---