Niobe, ljóð frá 7. ágúst 2022.

Ending good? Not ever, bad!

Like all society will tell.

Leftists, wokes are way off, mad,

we are gone to deepest hell.

All is lost, the wars as well,

we are pawns and cannot think.

Always on the brink...

as you know, the reason, so they fell.

 

So you hope, I'd foil your fall,

first you see the control, how.

Merciful? I'd make the call,

mothers, rulers, holy cow...

Humble, winning never now,

Niobe got drunk as us,

betting on a bus,

but like us she turned into a sow.

 

Hitch a ride, there's downfall, dew,

discard what is heavy, right.

Will not change, the nanites knew.

Now the people dare not fight.

Trodden down with trollish might!

trivial all they say was wrong.

Cared for jade and cong,

cannot understand and not in sight.

 

Dizzy people, dying, brought.

Do you understand what's said?

Told them so just as I ought,

all of them still found regret.

Didn't care what life was led,

lust, the moment, all to them.

Jiving for the gem,

gibberish, the holy fashion, pledge!