Toxic chemical green-waste sludge,
Chewing your skin & bones to the gory end,
Cut sewage pipes protruding,
From the ruinous graffiti stone-wall,
Of the city of Omid,
Now forever laying wasted & helpless.
Medical-Marxists looking out with Sadist-Vision,
To dominate, exploit & control like a pig,
Issued heavy decrees.
Laying an impossible burden,
Of performance, perfection, productivity & cleanliness,
The government having been perfectly-corrupted,
Busy-bodied itself into every aspect,
Of the life of the very people they are supposed to protect.
Drugged out, tuned out materialistic masses,
Spending their days screen-whoring,
Choosing to gorge rather than face,
And to harden and kick at the Goad of Truth.
Unaware, dulled & vegetabilized,
Suckered by the deceitful-lips of the snakes of all media,
Fully blackened by lies,
All your searched were even controlled!
The illusion of reality,
Tainted and fabrically fabricated,
Morphed in a twisty rhythmic-motion,
With weird glitchy grey-vibes of sin,
The Light of ancient moral-codes,
Now more & more confused & repressed,
Bloomed an extremely dark age.
Within the Ministry of Love,
Which specialized in dealing with haters,
Since only love was allowed,
And you better obey or else,
Daily prisoners were incubated.
“Hey Max, what do you think we will find today?” Said Arjuna, an 11-year-old tribal prince.
“I don’t know Arjuna, hopefully something juicy. Hey listen…I…” Said the 13-year-old Maximus, a handsome boy with kind yet sad-brown eyes.
“Woah, wait right there! Look I know, it’s…ok. The family rule is that she is free to date as long as he is nice. Knowing you, I think that fits the bill. Don’t act weird, don’t get too…erm…physical in front of the family and you will do just fine.”
“Gee… erm…thanks I guess. I was going to tell you listen, maybe we should split today to cover more area; and for the record your sister & I are just friends. But now that you mention it…”
This caused a quick slap on Max’s back with a burst of laughter from these two adorable friends.
Close to the harvest-field 795-D8, the dark sky with crimson, orange & gold, painted a sorrowful satanic puppet-show, as mankind was now trapped under the perfectionist grasp of the science-worshipper’s statistics.
All rights & freedoms were inferior to a better scientific result. This mind, the same mind that does the great leap forward, the same mind as the ancient He-Devil Karl Marx, the same mind as those billionaires who sparked the sadistic-malevolent flame of technocracy, had resulted in mass killing-fields of gory man-flesh & cyber-parts mingled together. The suburbs, which were once paradisian peaceful places for the middle class, had now turned into slums filled with violent-gangs, starvation and sadistic-cults.
Max, whose father was the cult high priest, was seeking human body parts for their weekly sacrifice.
His heart oppressed by years of sorrow,
With Sadness he focused on his guilt,
Offering forbidden cannibalistic offerings,
Attracting the Dark-Presence of Demonic Entities,
As all other’s in his tribe,
Rejoiced and danced and praised Belial,
Maxie-Max mourned the loss of innocence.
Walking through twisty cyber-gore ruins,
Eyes losing the Light of desire with each molten-step,
Snake of time now crawling,
Towards the anathema-boys,
With o so very evil intent.
Arjuna the son of the Grand-torturer,
Who rejoiced at pain & calamity,
Visibly had an erection,
As the stench of innards,
Reached his shadow-breath.
Separating from his accursed friend, hands in pocket,
Shuffling in his own skin, with a perverted-unease,
Constantly feeling that something is very wrong,
“Perhaps I am in a Matrix?”
Thought Maximus the cursed.
“This horror-infested show,
Which goes on & on,
And these acting dancing-clowns,
Happy to be twisted & vile,
Everything seems so out of place?!”
“The instrument of humanity,
O so very dramatically off-key,
Sounding like a chain-saw massacre,
With a bit of sexual-violence sadistic rape,
Have we so lost our way?!”
The sun and the moon & the stars,
Now suffocating under domes and polluted skies,
Raped by chemical-whoring,
And incessant 666-perfectionizing.
Seeking to be safe than free,
To express the divine depth,
Deep-treasured but hidden beneath,
Within the sin-intoxicated dungeon-walls of our hearts,
Now overrun by cybernetic-liars,
Pondering on the meaning of life,
Crushed and hopeless Maximus-Max,
Cried out from the depths,
To the powers at be.
An angel of the Light,
A caring & loving Spirit,
Keeping an eye with Loving-Vision,
Wanting to do good to mankind-brothers,
Passing by a sad murderous scene,
In which two girls intertwined lifeless,
With electric-charged torn chords,
Which were whip-twisting frantically,
Heard baby-Maxie’s cute prayer.
“O great & wonderful Light,
I heard of you from a Book,
Called the Bible I think,
It said you are God & Love,
Delighting in Mercy,
And Justice & Loving-kindness.
And now o wonderful Light,
Look below you at moi,
A filthy nothingness doomed,
To plague-infested serpentine dungeons of nether.
Bat-winged Demons of the Night,
Overpowered our hearts,
Now, within the gory machine-city,
Nay, in the peasant starving suburbs,
I am a sacrificial altar-boy.
My father having sold his soul,
To the serpent, o so very long ago,
Feeds in debauchery-communions,
The putrid-souls of his comrades.
But what bothers me the most is his incest,
Raping me from very young,
Penetrating me from behind,
In sick oppressive violent-fits,
I feel o so very unsafe.
Seeking goodness & love and the easy-yoke,
And gentleness to make me great,
Seeking to be soft rather than hardened,
This is the 7th year that I diligently,
Knock on your glorious door.
Having hidden your presence,
Upset at mankind’s forsaking,
The eternal decrees, that is,
Passed with divine authority,
Through mighty men & women of old.”
Saddened by the burden he had been forced to carry; Slouching-Maxie dragged his weary feet.
Walking by an ex-cyber-church,
Having forsaken their assembly,
Which could be the Abomination of Desolation,
By the ruthless medical-tyranny,
Now defaced with confusing graffiti;
Anti-messages telling you how they hate you,
And they wish to sadistically & statistically rape you,
That you are an ugly abomination,
Divided, strifeful & debased.
In the grey-industrial cloudy skies,
With a gentle drizzle of rain,
The air smelling like toxic-chemicals,
Not lovely at all in the morning,
Covering the atmosphere around,
Like a spill of plague which chews holes.
Watching Arjuna from far,
Hardened & rejoicing at all the gore,
Playing with a Golden-Mask,
Which morphed him into Marquis De Sade,
After a fake aristocratic ball,
Gorging himself on forbidden-flesh.
The mocking spirit of Arjuna,
Acting as though he was a necrophiliac,
Helping a skeleton- grandma,
Through the vine-grown ruins of a gate,
Whose hands turned to dust,
Under the ruthless bad-seed clutches of the babie-monster.
The crusty-arrogance of Arjuna,
Always being right in everything,
He thus denounced all beliefs as inferior.
Being kind of brainy and somewhat smart,
But in the eyes of Maxie so sadly out of tune,
Arjuna let his tongue parade through the earth.
The swear-words all had to do with the Light,
Which was actually the joke of the tribe,
Mocking the great Father of Life,
The Source of all, majestic and pure-love,
With blasphemous untruths.
In the cult of Arjuna,
Named after him at birth,
When he incepted in a gang-rape,
He was the birthed anti-messiah of facade.
Ancient Luciferian prophecies,
Having foretold the blessing of the anti-seed,
To manifest all the forces of darkness,
Brutalizing the souls of men.
Arjuna so powerful & great,
Strong, healthy & sharp,
Only out to do long-term damage,
All interactions sucked you into his black-hole.
Of all Arjuna’s friends,
Which he bullied and sometimes killed,
The son of the Dark-Priest,
Had stolen his very heart.
The Yin finding that pesky Yang,
And the negative attracted to the positive,
Sade-Arjuna loved Maxie the Merciful.
Unable to explain,
The warmth he felt with this little man,
He took Maximus everywhere.
The heart of babie-Maxie melted,
Filled with compassion towards the Golden-Mask friend,
Like a zombified stupefied cyber-Frankenstein,
Pushed out of place with mother nature,
Arjuna gloated over all the misery-death.
Not hearing the Light after 2555 days, once he calmed down the gore-exited lil-sadist, Maxie-max crawled into his bed.
“Thank you, the Light, for the day you gave me;
I pray that you forgive me the Light for not being better, greater and more loving; and I ask you the Light that you would help us during this dark age.”
Morning sacrifice is here at last. This morning two beautiful babies will be offered to Moloch. The father, having inserted his perverted poison into Max thoroughly the previous day, ignored him with the least amount of effort.
In the uncomfortable metal altar clothes, priest-Maxie drooped over by the crushing-sadness of his existence.
The pleading eyes of the babies, specially the one that kept giggling, pierced through Maxie’s heart.
In the cleft of the rocks,
The unthinkable is done,
Deeds unheard of among men,
Now celebrated, Good-Evil & Evil-Good,
Mutated calloused hands & hearts,
Butchering to self darkness-feed.
His father’s robe had blood-stains from the 3 grandmas they offered up yesterday; Max always looked away, yet the screams and above all the bad vibes they gave, made him feel more & more suckered into the black spiral-vortex of spirituality.
In the twisting caves Maxie travelled. His father was holding his little sexually-abused hands.
Looking down Maximus thought of the Golden-Mask of Arjuna, behind which lay, stilled & engraved, the sadistic smile of the lil demon.
Choosing to submit rather than resist, as he walked the doomy hallways, of the sacrificial-cave, Max softened his heart.
Going down rather than up, submitting to the nightmarish atmosphere of a mechanized-hell, Maximus received his pain.
Praying fervently to the Light, whom he thought does not hear, he went to the centre of his suffering.
Orange glow of torches & reverse candle-sticks, casted an ominous glow, on the God-forsaken cave-walls.
Hearing the cry of the babies,
Of the pretty unblemished pair,
Announced their proximity,
To the sacrificial chamber.
His father straightening his back,
To project regal importance,
To kiss the rear of Arjuna’s dad,
Who gorged himself on sadistic-gore,
Necrophiliac infanticidal creep.
The trembling hand of babie-Maxie,
Shuddered at the incoming pain.
Inside the black Chamber of Death,
The blood-stained Sacrificial Block shone,
Decorated with Smoky Quartz,
And Amber from tree-tears,
As if to ease the suffering of the baby,
Instead of a gentle necklace,
Now used for a bloody knife.
Unshaking hands of Maxie Daddy,
Blessed the atheistic-lord.
3 naked young virgins singing,
Added an erotic twist,
To this abominable deed.
The altar with the two cute-babies,
One white like a dove, and one black as a crow,
One white like a pearl, and one black as the night-sky,
Manifested the Spear of Terror,
In the eyes of Maximus-Max.
Looking pleadingly for a way to escape,
The suffocating walls of pain,
Announced no other way.
Across the altar Arjuna stood,
Still wearing his Golden-Mask,
Now cut in half so you could see the smirk,
And the sexual licking of the lips.
Arjuna’s father stood naked,
With a mighty erection on his gigantic penis,
The very thing treasured above all by all the peoples,
Even though he had no other skills,
His looks raised him up as a mighty king.
3 fake priests,
Recited man-made mantra-gibberish,
To justify the baby-massacre,
In the heart of the hardened-crowd.
Saying the final prayer,
Spoken to the unholy leader,
Maximus’ Papa reached for his belt,
The Ruby of the dagger-handle,
Vibrated Maxie’s heart with terror.
The black baby sleeping,
And the cute white one smiling,
Reaching out to Maximus’ compassionate eyes,
Melted the heart of the young prince,
Understanding the inevitable.
Looking away from the sexual murder-frenzy,
Baby Maxie scribbled this poem:
Mask men with masked minds,
Machine-hearts with motived unkind,
Masked unindividualled masses,
Blending along like cheap molasses,
Losing the flame of God,
And the Salt of the Most High;
Masked cops with masked agendas,
Multi-billion corporations Policy-galore,
Intrusive egg-shell walking vibes,
Watchful eyes penetrating my core;
Breathless, lifeless, clueless vegetable crowd,
Gorging themselves to escape smallest flicker of pain;
Choosing to run now and face later,
Choosing to face null to run hither;
Unwise unethical unbecoming immodest,
Petty, trashy, hairy creepy spiritual liars;
Unholy God-hating youth,
Parents passive TV-pets,
Choosing to dull their minds,
In false boxes of anti-safety;
Trusting in fearful media lies,
Of the controlled narrative of untrue reality,
Slumbering blind careless-ease daughters,
Half-nude, treacherous & deceitful liars,
Angry-sons of unknown fathers,
Forgotten tossed to & fro, homeless,
Loveless, hopeless & silenced;
Masked men hiding their faces,
Reverse of Adam & Eve’s first;
Hiding in shame the image of God,
The beautiful faces of the Daughters of Yah,
And Sons who are precious & pure,
Born to be salty overcomers;
Masked souls in darkness,
Closed, unopen and heartless;
Masked cars with little know little people,
And the larger controllers like wicked trillionaires;
Forcing lab-grown this & that,
For you and me alone while he sat,
In Xanadu gorging in mansions & palaces,
Which are fortresses,
But only in his own imagination,
I shudder to think this anti-human,
What answer he will give to God;
Answering for each paralyzed child,
Which he destroyed & minimized,
Focusing on the higher number of good,
Thinking that life is a mathematical fraud;
Uneducated educated classes,
Stuck in good & evil of the brainy ages,
Forgetting the lifeful path of children,
Bubbly adorable sub-conscious beings,
Which YHWH called us to follow,
In order to reach the kingdom of the Father;
O masked Mothers & Fathers,
With your masked Sons & Daughters,
Open your eyes and see,
The seed of fear being planted in thee;
Save yourself, your children and me.
Having been touched,
By the sexual abuse of the babies,
His spirit testifying,
Close to the heart of evil he sits.
Washing his face of splattered blood,
Looking with grief and cut to the quick,
By his co-operating hands,
Maximus left the sacrificial dungeon.
Lil devil Arjuna,
Now buzzed by the sadist-gory feast,
Like a sugar overdosing little kid,
Was beaming with anti-life.
The muddy streets of the suburbs,
Broken down, with robots out of their mind,
Turning here and some over there,
With no plan or destination,
One flying order-delivering robot,
Was slamming itself against the walls.
Diseased blackened dead bodies,
Lying limbed & scorched in the streets,
Gave off a vomit-inducing stench,
To the incest-loving City of Omid.
The mirth of decrepit virgin daughters,
Even they were faking it under the nightmare,
Added an abominable flicker,
To the reflection of the darkened-sun,
On the Golden-Mask of Arjuna.
Talking incessantly none-sense,
Over-excited Arjuna was reciting an ancient folk poem:
“O fear surrounds me, the old familiar demon,
Wilting my heart’s joy-flow,
Scorching the soul-moth in an enflamed-massacre;
O here comes the dirty feeling,
The path to the dark side now has shone,
The gates of darkness flung wide open;
Those dirty nasty stealers,
And the subtle inward doubts, and creepy feelings,
Crawling up & down my skin,
Will they spell out my doom?
The courageous Child of the Light,
Strong & Confident former champion,
Will he receive a bribe,
From the bosom of the Dark Lord?
O hear comes the feeling,
The nasty bugger of all men,
In solemn resistance I remain.”
The mantle of Dark Horizon,
Casting a shadow of death,
On the present moment,
As the rejoicing Arjuna,
Celebrated misery & death.
Wanting to touch Maximus down there,
Max as always quickly rejected,
Mocking-Arjuna was aware of the answer.
Pleading with Arjuna,
To turn from his wicked ways,
To not go the way of his father,
To turn to righteousness,
And shine like the stars forever,
The many other words of Maximus the Friend,
Fell on o so very deaf ears.
Denying & unbelieving Arjuna,
Wanting the easy way,
Was gone-baby goner.
Withdrawing to go for an accursed walk, after the infanticide debacle, and a quick abuse by his dad, Maximus wandered away alone; giving another quick prayer, diligently but a bit hopeless, head down & heart wilted-molten, Baby-Maxie sat by a rock.
“I am going for a walk and praying, you know that already.”
“When are you going to give up this nonsense? There is no Light and no Creator; look around you; how could God exist in such a universe?!”
“But He does exist Maxine,” said Max as he looked with kindness at his friend. Maxine, AKA Crazy M, was the eccentric & beautiful sister of Arjuna. The vibrant life-spark of Maxine was truly a marvel to behold. Like a master-saintess who had transcended, she walked as though she was a regal ruler; undisturbed, playful & strong, secretly she was Max’s love and rock.
But words were bottled up in the heart of Maximus, in the prison-walls of his chaotic universe; lost, bewildered & hurt, his spirit being sensitive, Max patiently sat and took it.
The cheeky eyes of Maxine, who knew Max adored her, enflamed the loving heart of Maximus.
Finally after a lifetime of torture, the Prophetic Words long held back, broke forth from Max’s sub-conscious:
“I believe in better days Maxine, better days of love & kindness that is, and the truth of a Wonderful Creator, gentle and in harmony with Man.
I believe in the beauty of the starry-sky, and the good, still in Mankind’s heart.
And above all, I believe in you Maxine, with your bewitching magnificent-eyes.
I believe if I could humble myself truly, receiving my suffering,
Like the man I read about, who went to the cross,
Not resisting the torturous hands of the betrayer,
Then the Light will raise me from this deadened earth.”
The Golden-Arrow of Maximus’ prophetic words,
Penetrated the heart of the magnificent seductress.
The seed of the Light,
Who was always so very near to Maximus’ heart,
Planted a mighty Truth-Seed,
In the open heart of Maxine.
Opening her Third Eye to the maximum,
Maxine received the loving words.
As the torturer of the future-self,
Brutal, sadistic, abusive & merciless,
Loomed in the God-forsaken horizon,
The ruins of the old world lay desolate,
When the star-crossed lovers joined hands & lips;
The love of the Light now being made manifested,
In the not to be despised humble beginnings,
Began a hopeful Light Age,
For the afflicted race of Men.
Turning into an unmovable rock,
Who was willing to submit and face the painful truth,
Maximus the Seer & Maxine the Prophetess,
From the depths of hell, Mankind they saved.
By Ashkan Jafarpisheh – September 2020