In the 1950s Berlin,
Walking in snowy lovely streets,
Head down and filled with shame,
“Hey Max, why did you lose your faith?”
A flickering streetlight,
By a stony mansion-wall,
Gentle drizzling piercing-rain,
Falling on Max’s accursed head.
Slowly with the weight of his guilt,
Almost crossing the line of no return.
Turning around the corner,
Seeing a couple of beggars, wondering,
“Should I give a buck or 2, or Nay?”
Having lost his way,
Babie-sheep now o so very astray,
Embracing the God of Science,
Perfectly predictable number,
Leaving no room for faith,
Which is the substance of things hoped for.
Hopeless Maxie hand in coat,
That expensive pretty wool,
Brown with not one hole,
Unlike his formerly priestly robe,
Which he wore when friendship with the Light,
Was over the faithful-priest’s life.
Remembering those days,
A tiny poke of truth,
Tried to come up to the top,
From the sub-conscious of Max.
Quickly using a couple of mental-formulas,
Using logic and reason and justification,
Maximus suppressed the truth.
In the abyss of his God-forsaken psyche,
Screaming, tortured, alone and in pain,
Truth clawed at the stony-walls.
The beautiful truth,
Aptly named baby-Maxine,
Sitting in the depths of the abyss,
Incessantly praying night & day.
“The Light, help me,
I long to be free,
Flowing in loving & gentle times,
Away from torment, agony and shame.”
The brutal-steel logical walls,
Allowed no prayer reach the Light.
The truth-dungeon sealed again,
Maximus Max thus denied God.
Now the mask of smirk,
The arrogant demonic deceitful-lips,
And the haughty eyes the Light hates,
Hardened crusty and neck not bent,
Firm & proud, Pyramid-tipped,
Maximus-Max sped up his walk.
Feeling now upbeat,
The little chemical was starting to hit,
“Hey baby what’s your name?“
Said playful Maxie,
Playfully whoring his soul.
The whore gave a cheeky smile,
Her house is the way to Sheol.
The heart of Babie-Maxine melted,
At the callousness of her master,
Forgotten and tortured in Dungeons of GOR,
Now we will look at the story below.
The beautiful Queen of the Night,
Indulgent evil seductive-witch,
Having fed on the souls of the young,
Washing herself with their blood,
The Queen of GOR sadistically enjoyed,
The flesh & life-force of the Newborn.
Her beauty shone,
Like the perfect disguised anti-angel of Light,
Now for her favorite time of the Night,
Torture-time of Baby-Maxine.
Hands tied down to the wall,
With heavy ball & chain,
Dragging her weak legs,
Once so pretty and vibrant,
Now skin and bones and bloody flesh.
Starving face of Sad-Maxine,
Communicated her pain is very great.
Holding on for the final day,
Before she passes away,
And thus Max will become eternally sealed,
On Light’s repeat offender list.
Gathering all her might,
Crying out, a bit hopeless but not fully.
“The Light, look at moi,
And see the pain I feel,
And feel the hell I see;
The Black-Duchess approaches,
With her playful penetrating-hate,
Carrying me out night by night,
Why do you ignore my plight?”
Running out of all strength,
The Light released a vial of grace,
For the gentle soul of Pearl-Maxine.
Back to Berlin we are now at a scene,
In which scientist Maximus-Max,
With a proud puffed up knowledge-filled head,
Was cracking cheap jokes,
For a couple of illiterate whores,
Who thought that he is very smart,
“So perhaps he got some dough?“
Hand on the breast of one,
And buttocks of the one on the left,
The atheist warlord thus rejoiced,
Laughing from the depth of his heart.
Opening wide his hellish-mouth,
After decades of deep denial,
Finally the wrath of the Light,
Arrived to expose the truth,
Breaking past the dull denial,
Of the pathetic atheist fool.
Having gone past many warnings,
Sent by Warrior Priest-Maxine,
The truth-girl trying to communicate.
For decades enduring in hope,
To relight the flame of his heart,
The Giant Steel-GOAD of the whore-queen,
In the Black Abyss of Max-heart,
Was pounded through Maxine’s right-eye.
Her brain splattering,
With FOUNTAINS of RUBY-BLOOD,
Violent screams of Babie-Maxine,
Blended with the laughter of the witch.
Cracked stony walls of the dungeon,
Now splattered fully grey-red.
The sound of 2 sorrowful passing-crows,
Added a gentle dose of anti-salt,
To this vomit inducing wizard-brew.
Grasping for a tiny waft of air,
Raising her left hand high toward the sealed-gate,
As a final, final, final poke,
Was denied by Maximus-Max.
Having received the Mark of Cain,
For murdering his sister, Truth,
As Maxine’s gored naked body lay lifeless,
Maximus’ laugh reached a crescendo.
Now feeling an erotic twist,
To his twisted & fake shallow-heart,
Reaching in his pocket he grabbed another pill,
Forgetting through Devine intervention,
He just took one a few minutes ago!
Put the babie-pill,
On his dry Spotted-white tongue.
From the pill we can see,
After blending with his saliva,
Droplets of poison,
Slowly and with forceful malice,
Seeping through to Max’s core.
Quickly with the aid of the Light,
And the revengeful ruthless universe,
Upset at the slaughter of Maxine,
Now seeking to doom Max to massive-pain,
The poison penetrated his heart,
The Atheistic Maximus-Max,
The proud hardened Neu-fool,
Overdosed at the peak of the Night.
A sudden violent panic,
Reminded him of the double-pill,
Forsaking the girls quickly,
He ran towards the bathroom.
Grabbing table cloths as he went,
Looking like a woman about to be raped,
By the mocking-sadist Genghis Khan.
Sound of broken glass,
And inaudible to him,
An ocean of concerned voices,
Accompanied the hellish inferno-fool,
To the moment of death.
Inside the bathroom,
He was not alone,
Two bully street-thugs,
Tattooed and heatless sadists,
Started to push him against the wall.
Heart of Maximus Tsunamied,
From his depths an ocean of blood,
Erupted to the surface.
Breathless & mortified atheist,
Tried to scream, but the hands,
Of the muscle-thug lay,
Like a steel-bar on his mouth.
Raped, petrified and wide-eyed,
After brutalizing pain,
Maximus lay in piss and blood,
Cursing the Light under his lips,
For the final, final, final time,
Before the heart-attack,
Sealed eternity in his eyes.
Seeing himself separate from his body,
As the thugs searched through his pockets,
The silver-cord of Max,
Disconnected his soul.
Thinking “what is going on?“
“I was supposed to be just matter.”
Suddenly a deep fear,
Though he had no body,
His soul could still feel,
Bloomed the flower of Truth,
But in the shape of a dark,
Cannibalistic venomous rose.
Being hit with the depth of his deception,
Struck to the heart but with naught left to pay,
Hardened like one of his stats,
Sure & set like an equation,
The formula thus became known,
To sadist-statist atheist trash;
“If you deny God, He will deny you.”
Travelling into the lower realms,
Trapped by the chords of his own sin,
As the torturer of the future-tense,
Dragged Max below to infernal-hell,
In the void of spiritual realm,
No one can hear you scream.
By the Light and Angels he was ignored,
Being fully robbed and deceived,
Wasting his life on pleasure and matter,
The Castle of Illusion crumbled,
Ruinous, desolate & debased,
Leaving nothing as payment,
For his horrific crimes.
In the Lake of Fire,
Where worms are not dying,
And the fire is not quenched,
Atheist overlord Max,
Dethroned and brought so very low,
From the majestic seat of his pride,
For an eternity of torment,
Slowly marches on & on,
For the crime of killing the Truth,
And murdering his true self,
Towards never-ending doom.
By Ashkan Jafarpisheh – October 2020