Cannon Fodder

Cannon Fodder

Cannons hungered for some meat –
Fools were marched into the heat.
Such a tale brings little cheer,
Madness reigns both far and near.

Fascism shifts its mask and guise,
Yet remains as vile as lies.
But the end is drawing near –
Armageddon’s almost here.



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Feasting on lies –
Poison spread.
Fools have swallowed
Brains go dead...



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Phantasmagoria of Extinction

Like a gosling, lost and weak,
Baby mammoth tries to seek
Mom and dad—but all in vain,
Doomed to vanish, born in chains.

Leave your ancestors behind,
All their "wisdom"—never mind.
Truth is buried, hard to find
In the filth that clouds your mind.



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Market Crash on the Soul Exchange

Hey, the market's shifting fast –
Psyche's price won’t long outlast.
Sell yourself without delay –
Dumping drives the cost away.

Souls are cheap, no mind required,
Crowds by media inspired.
Through their voices, camps arise –
Digital in their disguise.

On white flags, red crosses shine,
“Care” is preached in every line.
Yet the fiends who stage this show
Dream of herds that kneel and bow.



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Verbal Diarrhea of Propaganda

Brains get washed—what a catch!
Evil’s tricks still hold their patch:
If not Lenin, Christ appears—
Endless flood of hollow fears.

Schools will gladly aid the mission:
Preach that chains are just tradition,
Push the “greatest” of ideals—
Turn you into slave for real.

Chains can break, but not the lies,
For the fools will idolize
Every wretched, vile disguise
That their masters advertise.

Like a lifeline, they embrace
All the bile their rulers praise.
Sickened minds, corrupted view—
Now the world’s a "Soviet" too.

Once they jailed the sane in wards
For rejecting Party’s chords.
Now the flood runs even wider,
Drowns the world in filth and cider.

Modern media surpassed
Every scheme of tyrants past,
Even Goebbels looks in wonder
As they pull the masses under.

Fools and traitors lead the race,
Forming crowds of slaves, disgraced.
Demons steer them, dragging low—
Drop the filth, let lies all go!



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Closing Ceremony of the Paris Games

Devils and zombies, end of days,
After the rings, they’ll claim their praise.
A celebration of dark rites—
Beasts will feast in satan's sights.



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Out of the Crowd

"Run among the still, stand with the fast!"
— Confucius.

The crowd knows not where they are going,
No pause to see what’s truly flowing.
Their “wisdom” bound by rot and ruin,
To be with them’s to be undone.

Where do they run? To "success" they race,
Past stops where tyrants hide their place.
Only fools can stand the game,
Where mindless joy is all the same.



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This World, a Journey from the Stupid Hell to the Sheepish Paradise

"It's not what they've made of me,
But what I’ve made of what they made of me."
— Jean-Paul Sartre

They've dulled, they've cut away
All the soul’s movements toward the Light.
Everywhere’s a Hell of dismay—
Wake up fast, and take your flight.

Heal your wounds the best you can,
Seek and learn, find your own way.
For they always lead the flock to slaughter,
Shouting "paradise" to sway.



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Murder of the Mind by "Survival"

Cause and effect in this cruel game:
Life’s tough, so you’re to blame?
Or are you born a wretch by fate?
In this world, the lines are faint.

It happens both ways, here and there,
It’s not the monster, it’s despair.
Causes follow consequences,
Not for fools—who lack the senses.

There’s time, but also timelessness,
Yet nonsense drowns all mindfulness,
The fragile motions of the mind,
Lost in the Hell that’s blind, confined.

Hell’s true nature: pure survival,
Brains and souls for sacrifice—
In Hell, salvation costs your skin,
With death to Science, Culture’s end.



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"Themes" to memes,
Nonsense streams –
Fools start shaking
In their dreams!..



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Being dumb’s a tougher trade
Than the verses poets made.
You must heed the twisted minds
And absorb the rot they find.



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Quick step. — Where to? — Away from here!
I won't become a fool, I fear.
The chance is high to fall so low,
In this world, where lies will grow.



--- Total 12 poems. ---