Evil s Long-Term Plans
Repetition breeds submission,
Deceit’s the father, dullness—queen.
Trapped in “schools” of false traditions,
Soon no mind will dare be seen.
Fools collect their load of madness,
Reason fades—a few survive.
Lies spread fast, like rotting fungus,
Boundless, growing, still alive.
This process knows no final stages,
Layered weight will crush the rest.
Like a press in endless motion,
Stamping minds with flawed pretext.
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Shifting Proportions in Mind, or The Oily "Kindness" of Beasts
Can too much oil spoil the porridge?
Drown the grain, and taste is lost.
Only slaves, in lies submerged,
Fail to see the heavy cost.
In their minds, so dim and hollow,
Reason’s grain is hard to find.
Lies and horrors darkly follow,
Drowning souls in grease refined.
Lose your edge, ignore your senses,
Let them preach their “gentle” creed—
Like an abscess, it condenses,
Bursts within, and makes you bleed.
Soon your Soul and mind will wither,
Drowned in poison, drowned in gloom.
Grain is lost—just scraps that linger,
Smothered nine to two in doom...
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By Stealth or by Force?
By stealth they creep, by force they strike—
A "mighty choice," or so it seems.
But once you're trapped in creatures’ vice,
Your will is crushed beneath their schemes.
Expand your mind—there lies the way,
Not to shatter all their chains,
But to rise above decay,
Not rot in cells with thoughtless brains.
This world dissolves in filth and lies,
And slaves will rot within its frame.
Bow your head—you'll be despised,
The wicked mold you to their game.
But those who fight, who see, who rise,
Will break beyond this poisoned sphere.
Through Spirit’s light, beyond the cries
Of madness that will end it here.
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;Evil’s Long-Term Plans
Through the ages, fools obey—
Tricked to think they have a say.
Yet the ones who rule the land
Are but clans with schemes well-planned.
Obvious? It’s clear as day.
Still, the blind look far away,
Trust the clowns who sit on high,
And when they’re gone, they breathe a sigh.
But monsters lie—deceit refined,
They swap the masks, but not the mind.
For every puppet in the light,
A hidden hand controls the fight.
Their craft is rot, passed down through time,
Decay refined into a science.
Through the ages, they endure,
To shape the slaves, to keep control secure.
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;The Blind, Deaf, and Cowardly Fools
Blind, deaf, mute—
No greater theme, no deeper root.
Except for folly, fear, and vice,
The cowardice that feeds the lies.
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The End of the Historical Cycle
Banzai charges—motorbikes,
Rushing straight at guns and strikes,
Machine guns roar. The Cycle ends—
If minds are dull, all will descend.
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The End of the World and the Transition to Another Realm
A ragged crowd in "Transition"?
A new Hell waits their admission!
Once more they burn the world away—
Only a madman won't see the fray.
The honest soul, where will it go?
In time, we’ll know—I’m out of flow...
Everything else is mere disguise—
The Light’s a flash, gone from their eyes.
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Conquering New Worlds in Science Fiction
Galactic Fool—an honored name,
Advance! Pursue your endless claim.
You’ll gather skins, and countless more,
While countless lives you’ll tear and floor.
The whole Galaxy will shudder,
At slaves unknown, beneath the smother.
Lucifer will sharpen skill,
Exporting FEAR, LIES, and CHAINS at will.
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A Merry March to Hell
The boors march straight to Hell’s domain—
They’ll call it Heaven, all in vain.
No need for lies to bind the fool,
Stubbornness his only rule.
Yet in his mind, there’s empty space,
A problem in his thinking’s place—
Soon enough, he’ll meet his fate,
And find his soul’s a rotten state.
To heed the heart? That’s no delight,
In a world of need, where greed takes flight.
The Spirit dies, consumed by strife,
In the last turn of their cursed life.
And so, the fools arrive, at last,
At Hell’s gate, their die is cast.
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On Flags
Hell’s "joy" is lies that "serve the cause."
A red cross on a white flag’s jaws,
Completes the grim and painted scene—
Bowed down, they bend to CowID’s "sheen".
The hippo’s plague will come around—
"Quarantine!"—they scurry, all unwound!
The fools still trust the creatures' call,
With media leading, ever tall.
If they believe, they’ll build the Camp,
A digital one, beneath black’s lamp.
A deep, dark minus marks the cost—
It’ll strip their minds, a final loss.
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The Search for the Normal in War
A frantic rush—messages fly,
Searching for the "normal" under the sky.
It’s hard to find, as deep woods grow—
A devil’s easier to spot, if we bend the hook just so.
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Believing Everything the Beasts Say on the TV
A total fool,
Believes it all, no matter what they say.
Easier still, that beast will fall,
And turn to NOTHING, day by day.
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Self-Censorship on Stupid, Slave-like, So-called Literary Sites
"Chief Moderator"—
Once was the censors' might...
Self-provocator?!
No cash? That’s pure shameful plight!
"Self-isolation,"
It was all the same:
A mind's castration,
Simply—no cash, no fame.
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The Beast
The earthly beast is strange indeed—
Wounds in the mind, the soul in need,
But to fall so LOW, to sink so deep,
One must learn well from Hell’s own keep.
And if that’s true, they’re not to blame,
These twisted forms, in spite of shame—
Their judgment will come, though not today:
When they’re compared to Hell's own face, they’ll pay.
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Hollow Feasts of Hollow Lives
They pop the corks and cheer out loud,
A "grand success" they celebrate.
But what they hail, so vain and proud,
Is worthless even to elate.
Success is when the soul ignites,
And mind is honed to shape its spark.
If praise and gold define your heights,
You’ve missed the truth and groped in dark:
What is God’s Fire? What is Creation?
What’s art? Why does this Earth endure
A swarm of wasted generations,
Drowned in deceit and darkness pure?
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Inertia of Thought
Inertia traps the mind in chains,
A road that leads to Nowhere plain.
The soul decays, yet time remains—
The rot unfolds through years of pain.
So warning signs are cast aside,
Ignored until too late to see—
And then you stand, arms open wide,
To welcome in your enemy.
But intuition holds the key
To break that wheel and tear apart—
One ancient path, eternally,
To save the soul from sinking dark.
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Propaganda
The sewage flows into your home—
Dark propaganda, strong and vile.
Believe their lies? You’ll stand alone,
A scapegoat led to slaughter’s aisle.
No war declared, yet battles rage,
Your mind and soul—their battleground.
Struck once, you join the fools engaged,
As more must fall without a sound.
The cycle’s done. And soon will gloat
That cunning fiend with twisted grin,
Counting souls he’s lured and caught—
His tally shows the ones who sinned.
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Chaos, or the Roulette of Hollow Life
Zero.
Grey glow.
You place your bets on red and black,
So swift, so sure—no turning back.
Yet while you bet, they bet on you—
The beasts won’t stop, they’ll push you through.
For them, the game is crushing fools,
Who guard their skins but live by rules
Of chains unseen. No fate to tell—
This rigged roulette is chaos—hell.
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Trashy Films and Nonsense Shows
They churn out plots with lazy hand,
Cheap scripts are made with ease—
No talent needed to expand
A flood of smut to please.
The screens are filled with filth unchecked,
The web is drowning too.
Yet filth is tame—now pure neglect
Lets madness take its due.
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;The Fog of a Rotten World
A poisoned fog engulfs the land,
Its fumes of lies pollute the air.
It veils the goal, so far, so grand,
While wretches lead you to despair.
Your goal is clear—just think, just see,
If still your soul can feel the light.
But wretches serve the Enemy,
For coin they push, for coin they fight.
The fog grows thicker every day,
Dispersed by madness, not by thought.
And soon we’ll all just rot away—
The "last one standing" rots the least.
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The Knight in Shining Armor
Behold the knight in armor bright—
A jester’s show, a hollow sight.
His "armor" is success and fame,
Each step—a milestone in the game.
A game of lies, a life for sale,
Where souls are lost beyond the pale.
Corrupted deep, they grieve no more—
But only crave to rise and score.
For "glory" blind, for wealth they run,
Their greed devours everyone.
No honor left—just hunger raw,
For power, gold, and hollow law.
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To Heal and Extinguish...
We stamp the seals, we quench the lime,
We drown out minds in waves of lies.
A cunning fiend, who bides his time,
Wears a mask of sane disguise.
We heal the wounds, we numb the pain,
We "cure" the mind in CowID's name.
Our fate is set, the script’s the same—
Once, they "healed" us under "AIDS".
We’ll trust, obey, and play along,
We’ll kill our minds for fleeting gain.
Till all is priced, till right is wrong,
And all drop dead—no soul remains.
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This World
A crippled world, where Freedom’s name
Is torn to shreds—just empty sound.
And every struggle, every shame,
A tool to break the herd and hound.
The weak obey, they laugh, they crawl,
So blind, so dull—a wretched breed.
Here Satan wears a godlike shawl,
And none but madmen dare be freed.
Yet madness here is called the norm,
So if you see, you stand alone.
This world is swallowed by the storm
Of filth and shame upon the throne.
--- Total 23 poems. ---
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