LUNA IX: The Mask-Dungeon

In the atomic City of Omid,
With steel & deceit walls of no return,
Inside his lonely machine-cave,
Oppressed & robbed of all which is good,
Maximus focused on his scar.

Looking through a mirror,
A cybernetic shape-shifting abnormality,
He sought to better the image.

On his face, acid-poured and mangled,
Was the source of all his pain.

Shameful-Maxie, sought to silence the aching,
Looking though his drawer,
For those blessed chemicals,
I just need one more hit,
And maybe another after.

Hiding his shame in a filthy-cave,
Unable to move,
Frozen, in-fear, paralyzed by terror.

Looking through the window,
The sky blocked by a man-made dome,
No longer communicated the Light’s love.

The gentle babie-sun,
Who was always there,
With a kindly loving-poke,
Now forever blocked,
Because the earth is getting hot.

Scientists took over,
With their army of sadist-statists,
Changing the numbers deceitfully,
Which is a pure abomination,
In the eyes of the Light,
Who always takes note.

Propaganda Minister of Love,
Has obliterated all hate,
Forcing a mask of niceness,
And puking inclusivity decrees,
With green reset agendas,
They structured the whole world.

Putting on his copper-mask,
He was able to slip by,
Amongst the fake & oppressed crowd,
To go for an accursed stroll.


Walking out, chemical-scent of rain,
The old familiar oppression-plague,
Sat on the heart of Max.

Oppressed by statistics,
You can’t even sneeze in peace,
And you have to suppress your cough,
Robbed of all human rights,
The right to get sick & die undisturbed,
The key to happiness of the world,
Is apparently a perfect statistic.

Unlike his filthy cave,
His withering hands & face which he hides,
The streets were so nice.

Smiling humans,
You could not see behind the mask,
But the smile was always there.

Suppressing cameras,
In the smart-city of Omid,
Scanned all faces,
For traces of hate.

Forcing all to love,
Calling truth hate,
They perfectionized the world,
Into the image of Satan.

In the ministry of Love,
Humans were tortured
Cured of all their hatred.

The march of machine-Demons,
With the Beast at their helm,
Trashed all that is good.

Atheism being the main religion,
With their army of mockers & deniers,
Reported all infractions,

Policing for the greater good,
Which somehow does not include you,
But only the billionaire-elite.

Walking on a hair-trigger,
On an ocean of eggshells,
On top of a skinny-blade,
With howling-winds,
All your efforts were to ensure,
You obeyed all the rules.

No risk or danger,
Although you were perfectly-safe,
Sucked out the spark of life,
From the fire of the Light,
In the heart of mankind.

No longer having autonomy,
And freedom of speech,
And that precious privacy,
And the jewel of liberty,
Was gone baby goner.


Deep in contemplation, with his head down, now he was in the suburbs, the few places with no cameras, which meant they were a trash-dump.

Men and women & children, 
Engaged in sick orgies, 
Pedophilic-sadistic cults galore, 
Filthy souls destined for an eternity of torment,
Gorged themselves day & night,
Casting off all restraint.

Amongst these citizens,
Of the future-tense Lake,
Of Fire prepared for,
The practitioners of sin,
Were famous politicians,
Finally laying aside their masks,
And letting loose all that is repressed.

In the Omid-suburb square,
With a Pharmakeia booth,
Selling Maxie a new update,
This needle will feel so good,
Just sell your body and be a whore.

Crowds were gathering to dance,
Naked and to trance,
Deformed monstrosities,
“unhealthy and o so very ugly,”
Thought the repressed-Maxie.

Until he remembered,
Behind his own mask lay,
His secret and his shame.

Remembering the accursed night,
In which the mask of the serpent,
And the source of his daily torture,
Was spilled on his face.

A sadist-arsonist teen,
Hating God and all men,
A member of the Cult of Science,
Who hated Maxie’s faith,
Reported him to the police.

Being a man of God,
And a scholar of the Bible,
For decades Max had warned,
Of the incoming technocratic-plight,
Of the deceived humankind,
Ignoring his warnings,
By mandating the mask,
They went past the tipping-point.

The path of the overlords,
Was opened to all flesh,
Of all the sons & daughters,
Ex-free now imprisoned,
Under the needle of Dr. Death.

Writing words of truth,
Which were sharp and to the point,
Maximus pleaded with the masses,

To turn away from path of cowardice.
Rather than seeking to escape pain,
Turning the world into a sterilized lab,
Get out there and show your face,
Let herd-immunity have its way,
Remember sunshine & Vitamin D?

Rejecting to wear a mask,
Not allowing himself to be muzzled like a dog,
To be stripped off his self-worth,
And his bodily-autonomy,

By standing up for the Light,
He caught the attention of the ministry of Love.

Sending the medical-inquisitor,
A loving deceitful evil witch,
Who did not tolerate any hate,
You better love or you will be impaled.

Grandmaster Maxie,
The Giant Salty Prophet of the Light,
Resisted with all his might,
Protecting the boundary,
Of government forcing into your body,
By issuing heavy health-decrees,
For the illusory greater good,
The emergency-power never ends.

Saying no to the system,
Obeying God rather than men,
Standing behind the famous verse,
In Revelation Thirteen Sixteen,

Proclaiming I have rights,
On my body nothing should be forced.
He thus sought to plug the hole,
Of the entry of the Thief,
Coming to steal, kill & destroy,
Robbing you of abundant life.

Knowing he will face mandatory-immunization,
Using the mantra of tyrants,
The demonic “keep everyone safe,”
Seeking a way for Big Pharma,
To forcefully inject you with the Vax,
Maximus sought to be salt.

Most staying silent,
After the mask-mandate,
Mocking those who decried loss of freedom,
Wanting to live without being harassed,
The atheists & scientists took over,
Silencing and ironing over all dissent.

In the prison walls of love-ministry,
Pumped full of needles & stretched,
Maximus’ beautiful face,
As a final sealing brand of NO HATE,
Was acid-poured & scorched.

Forcing him to be permanently scarred,
Which mandated a Copper-Mask,
Since his ugly face was deformed,
The cameras would sense hate,
An autonomous cyber-police,
Would not allow him to move,
Unless the mask-curtain lay,
Clouding the heart of the ex-saint.


Walking past the square,
After remembering the trauma-scar,
A torturous pain at his core,
Ripped through his very heart.

Opening his heart to receive,
Going down rather than up,
Unbeknownst to the Minister,
He had not given up.

Praying diligently to the Light,
Like an immovable giant rock,
He was the last flicker of light,
For the candle-stick of mankind.

In the edge of the suburbs,
Near a gory cybernetic ruin,
By a lonely GMO-tree,
Maximus took off his mask.


Getting on his hands & knees,
Weeping and humbling himself with all his might,
He sought the help of the Light.

30 years daily,
Grand-guardian Max the mighty warrior,
Tortured day & night,
Not allowing his heart,
To be fully blackened by lies,
Pleaded with God.

“The Light, where are you, help me.
Under this suffocating mask,
I cannot breathe or move,
Within the government,
Torturing me for my own good.

Sanitizing the whole world,
Calling germs Neu-Terrorists,
They robbed us of all our rights.

Man-beasts at the tip of the Pyramid,
Blue-pill suckers who are atheists,
Deceived the young & old,
By buying journalists and statists,
To twist 1 into 2,
And sell the news of fear.

They cried out to distract,
As they robbed us with their other hand.

Seeking to control,
With Karl Marx’s Scepter of Power,
The leap forward was very great,
Starving 1/5 of the earth,
But for the greater good it’s ok.”

Ending the messy prayer,
Almost hopeless but not quiet there,
Wanting to end his life,
In the final final final day,
About to fully surrender,
He took out a Blue-pill.

The Pill he had resisted,
The Mark & Membership into the System,
His last secret NO to the machine,
Was about to be swallowed.

Taking his hand to his mouth,
Trembling & battered from decades of pain,
Still holding unto his faith,
A sudden burst of fearful-vibes,
Announced a dire warning,
Hey Max, what about all the others?

Poking with the goad of truth,
Unable to run since all he knew was to face,
Maximus opened his heart once more,
To the sharp arrow of the Light.

Realizing if he gives up,
It’s not just for him,
But about all the children,
The pure babie next-generations,
Tormented in indoctrination-camps,
Taught filth & denial,
And sexual forbidden-sins,
From a very young age,
I am their only hope.

Laying down his pill to the side,
Softened fully and tenderized to the max,
After a murderous life of agony,
Finally the Light after many years,
Spoke to the heart of babie-Max.


“Max, my son, my beautiful warrior,
Seeking to betray, but why?
 Instead of having hope, are you going to give up?

The secret to your undoing,
Is that you stop hiding,
Unmasking your faceless face,
Exposing your withered hand,
All you must do to be a saviour,
For the suffering race of men,
Is to speak the Truth.


The gentle loving God of Light, caressing babie-Max,
Comforting the tormented man,
With kind ancient vibes,
Opened an ancient path,
For the Goodly Maximus-Max.

Deciding to be honest,
And fully open,
And to swear to his own hurt,
And to not change.

As the torturer of the future-self,
Mandatorizing all flesh,
Sought to penetrate his heart,
Maximus received the Light.

Casting away his mask,
No longer hiding his scar,
Or seeking permission from men,
To exercise his God-given rights,
To live and move & be free,
And to believe as he believes.

Maximus thus became the Flame of true Love,
A Love that hates fake-Love.

Opening up the path,
Reversing the way of Anti-Christ,
Maximus thus became,
The saviour of humankind.


By Ashkan Jafarpisheh – September 2020

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6 months ago

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