// poetry
It's your new year,
Not mine, dear mechanical wrench
My awaited time, a year-round bloom,
Your festivities accompanied by a debaucherous stench.
This website is the Real Cannon!
Decimating the most propagated deathly ways
In this chilling cold my hands frozen as I write
Worth breaking the spell of your bewitching haze.
This website lives on your Internet!
I conquered myself a plot of virtual land
It's destroying antagonists not even in the line of fire,
It's a gift from the Most High's omniscient hand!
The machinery sugarcoats sin into "Love"
Paints brutal truth as "Hateful Speech"
When you claim your basic rights,
The Hypocrites shapeshifting into a "Loving Leech".
I'm a wicked wizard...?
If I fight for Freedom and Honor?!
I'll not go down so easily, my lord!
I'm coming for your wretched soul from every corner.
Machinery encroaching lands
Infiltrating the soil with poisonous seeds.
Getting Farmers to kill themselves daily,
Kills the very hands it frantically needs!
What must we hope for?
If that's how the Leech Loves,
I'm better off "The Hateful in Speech"
The seven-faced snakes posing as doves.
What’s the game plan?
Ostensibly the "Same Plan",
The Honey trap and contractually framing,
Unsound, unimaginative, befouling lame plan.