A Message. «shock rock»

A Message. «shock rock» Thoughts of a Twenty-First-Century Human. With an eye on the world, I look at war, Silently reasoning And burning dreams in the fire of thoughts... Ooooooo. One had to learn everything so That, in the clear light before the Father, Being human, one might be amazed. I see right thoughts About building honor in the conscience of life. On a genetic understanding after victories, The Russian human reasons... Who gave his life and time, Gave his age to the world. Describing the vicious circles That are enemies to the world. They do not distinguish a boy from a girl. They answer the world with war Through a game. Ooooooo. They have learned in the light of day To change not only thoughts but gender With the help of pills and scalpel. And to declare their right to the whole world. While covering themselves with painted texture, Economic culture, Where they exchange goods And in this ash of schemes Collect their profit. Ooooooo. They change general secretaries (leaders) to their own taste. Silent peoples into the furnace of their vicious ideas. For the sake of power and life In brief happiness. On mass misfortune. Mocking and bathing in violence. They themselves inflated this inflation of trust, Like popandopols in crimson jackets Built mansions on private islands. That is their contribution. With whom it fights in the barrels Of a soldier’s fate. In the eyes, a charge of fire... Ooooo... Russian thought, defending its own life, Created a nuclear country. The engine is a nuclear samovar. In the nests of mine shafts are barrels... With the same hypersonic filling. That no one will survive. Not in cheap shoes. Not in very expensive boots. War is de facto nullified. As is any victory over the Russian. This concerns every malicious thought Which, at the expense of another’s life, Tries, like ice against this steel idea, To compose its playful schemes for profit. How to enslave that... Which can burn everything on its path. How can it be bought? With what? What must be sacrificed to possess it? If thought knows That which is with it in illusion. World players In their weak game. At the foot. Like ice floes Before the passage Of the nuclear icebreaker, they play. About rights to force. In vain, with a crash. They logically and inevitably break themselves Against its steel. Not one argument has force. Only senseless victims. They surrounded [us], called themselves NATO. And so simply, talentlessly... They lost everything in the future. There is no one to talk to; one thing remains. Further, in one’s own world. In spite of everything. To think diplomatically. In steel with a nucleus. To sail peacefully, atomically. Ooooooo. Afterword. Think for yourselves, people. They strike at schools with children. For the sake of their game. They are killed there. And we look at them. And hold a nuclear shell. With all the strength there is in our conscience. Understanding that they, these players, Who are ordinary ice floes, Are not going to make friends with them. They have simply gathered to Break through and drown us along with themselves. And it is not about the peoples Whom they have gathered to set on us... In the name of their democracy. For a fake economy from under the press. They spare no one. Enough already. For their beads, to sell oneself and the people’s scalp, Like Indians through the ages, On this icy market To sell from the depths.