"And the triumphant evil stands in front of you ..."

Ballad for reading aloud

From the author: This ballad was written even before the coronavirus, but it seems that it serves as a good answer to those selfless idealists who sincerely believe that the world will improve and bad will think.

Imagine a rare creature,
Pure shit
One of those shameless khar
Which are full now.
Self -permanent murlo
Scottish ogra,
Self -sufficient evil
Without impurities of good.

And God sits in the sky -
Where would he go? -
Serious, kind Rebbe,
UN, not riot police,
Tired school head teacher
In the radiance of gray hair.
What is he planning, you know?
Includes the plan one.

(Saturn with ice rings,
Volcano that is swollen ...
Here you have to click your fingers
When you read aloud).

He created an abyss and plague,
Tarantulalov and cobr,
Other small mind
Having impressed that the world is unkind, -
But all the way. Sturient Smerd
For fear is too stupid.
Who is generally frightened by death
When are you so a corpse?

Then in return threat
And other fuss
The Lord came up with dreams
Both tears and flowers
Surprises, sentiments,
Fairy milk
And other points
From Dickens and Co.

(Forests with funny hares,
Smiling cooks ...
Here you have to click your fingers
When you read aloud).

But what for an evil goat
Such a spiritual work?
Hints, executions and treasury
Equally powerless here.
Realizing that the matter is bad
And Gadin Bodra,
The Lord includes a miracle -
Out of evil and outside of good.

Any of any size
Shining ice
Tropical fruits, Gothic bays,
Huge tracks
In words not expressed nightmares,
Bliss is above phrases -
Ehma, as the peasant would say, sowing the dars
And growing pineapple.

But where would there be a shock for God -
There is a hard Lucifer
Only the smell
Unattainable spheres.
Well, the mountain spirit decides
In the January gray hair.
There may be one of two.
Do not leave for me?

With wolves and their Oscals
Shepherd cannot be friends!
(Here you have to click your fingers
When you read aloud).

And you are no more
Like a virus from a computer.
And you are no more
Like a fat bug
You spoiled my planet
And now - Purkua would Pa?
Now you are no more
Tirim-param-p-pa!

So, my little friend:
When you are one day
You freeze, feeling a burn
Indisputable prampers -
Do not try to look for the source in it
Deep thoughts, high lines,
Do not say that the world is cruel
And cool at times:
The Lord could not save her -
Where sinful to us!
He was getting to her, sons,
And from that and from this side,
He created so much - from the moon
To polar ice,
From the harmonious of the Bystrin
To the sound of a torn string;
We are all clearly visible to us
The fruits of his work.
But this did not help -
No stars, no surf, -
And the triumphant evil
Stands in front of you.
It has struck the bottom itself
At your whim,
It is clearly as in a movie
It blooms, it is given
Only one thing can be done with him -
And better as soon as possible.

(Are you friends with Neanderthals?
I also know them.
Here it would be necessary to click your fingers
Castle,
Language,
Trigger).