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Eternal Pulse (KAH) #17
Warning:
- No room for sheep here, listen and you'll either stand up... or slink away ashamed.
English
|𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉~𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑|
50K posts
|𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉~𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑|
@Strongwill3
Will, word, way, the wizard's sway. Thrum in the bone, murmur the name, drift through the shimmer, tide turns to day. Ask and it's over, breathe and remain.🧙
Astrah' Kah'n شامل ہوئے Ekim 2012
1.8K فالونگ986 فالوورز
YouTube
Indonesia
|𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉~𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑| ری ٹویٹ کیا
Vice President Vance talks about the cooperation between the U.S. and Hungary, including in energy, “technology, and AI and manufacturing… the United States and Hungary have been great economic partners.” 🇺🇸🤝🇭🇺
English
Du har helt rett, det er ondskap inkarnert. Ingen kan forandre på energi utbyttet til sin biologiske maskin.
Kromosomene bestemmer om kroppen skal generere feminin eller maskulin energi, det går ikke å forandre på.
Hvis man påstår noe annet så er man enten fryktelig inkompetent eller ondskapsfull.
Norsk
Å fortelle barn at de kan bytte kjønn, og at dette vil fikse alle problemer, samt fortelle foreldrene deres at å ikke "bytte kjønn" vil føre til at barnet begår selvmord er ikke bare løgn. Det er direkte ondskapsfullt.
Norsk
|𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉~𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑| ری ٹویٹ کیا
HOLY SH*T 🚨 Hungary tells the European Union to go f*ck themselves. Look at this massive crowd
“Hungary is NOT your client state”
The EU is collapsing 🔥
English
|𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉~𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑| ری ٹویٹ کیا
English
Eisenhower Pyre (KAH) #18
Full Lyrics:
Astrah Ih Pah'toreh
Bella gerant alii — tu, felix, noli.
**Bridge**
Eisenhower warned—misplaced power.
Now it's trillion-dollar towers.
Crises chain-link: plague → proxy → fire.
You pay the tab, they light the pyre.
They fed you AI dreams—
Now watch the reapers gleam.
No jobs, no mercy, no light—
Just endless night.
Prophecy: by twenty thirty,
Half gone, half in chains.
The machine's not saving—
It's harvesting names.
**Verse 1: COVID**
Masks on, lights out—2020's cage.
Billions pumped in, veins of vaccine rage.
Factories hum for shots, not steel—
Fear's the fuel, the deal's sealed.
Lockdowns chain you, screens your sky—
They count your breaths, you never ask why.
Screens glow, jobs vanish—2020's ghost.
"Automation's gift," they whisper, toast.
Factories quiet, bots take the wheel—
Billions lost, but profits heal.
They promise rebirth, you swallow the pill:
"Work's obsolete—sit still."
**Chorus**
One virus, one border, one bomb—
Same hand, same game, same calm.
They swap the plague for the shell,
Turn your terror into their sell.
No god, no peace—just the grind:
Control's the pattern, blood's the bind.
**Verse 2: Russia**
Tanks roll east,
February twenty-two.
Gas lines choke, Europe turns blue.
HIMARS hum, AI eyes.
Kill lists coded, on demand.
They say "defense," you pay the tab—
While robots tally every stab.
Tanks roll east, February twenty-two.
Gas lines choke, Europe turns blue.
HIMARS sing, Javelins fly—
Stockpiles bleed, profits multiply.
Proxy blood, proxy gold—
Ukraine's dirt, their balance sheet bold.
Borders bleed, drones swarm the sky.
Ukraine's dirt, AI eyes.
HIMARS hum, no human hand—
Kill lists coded, on demand.
They say "defense," you pay the tab—
While robots tally every stab.
**Chorus**
2026 dawns—AI gods awake.
Armies march, no flesh to break.
Drones hunt streets, cull the weak—
"Overpopulation," they speak.
Ordinary man?
Just meat for the mill.
Wars aren't chaos—they're the kill.
**Verse 3: Iran*
Hormuz flames, autonomous fleets.
F-15 ghosts, no pilots, no seats.
Missiles whisper, targets locked—
Petro burns, stocks unlocked.
"Security," they sell—
While cities fall, where bodies fell.
Hormuz burns, day forty-five.
F-15 ghosts, missiles alive.
Petro plants black, oil spikes red—
Patriots launch, billions ahead.
Tehran screams, Tel Aviv cracks—
War's just commerce in body bags.
Hormuz flames, autonomous fleets.
F-15 ghosts, no pilots, no seats.
Missiles whisper, targets locked—
Petro burns, stocks unlocked.
"Security," they sell—
While cities fall, where bodies fell.
**Chorus**
They fed you AI dreams—
Now watch the reapers gleam.
No jobs, no mercy, no light—
Just endless night.
Prophecy: by twenty thirty,
Half gone, half in chains.
The machine's not saving—
It's harvesting names.
**Verse 4: The Prophecy*
2026 yawns—AI gods awake.
Armies march, no flesh to break.
Drones hunt streets, cull the weak—
"Overpopulation," they speak.
Ordinary man? Just meat for the mill.
Wars aren't chaos—they're the kill.
**Chorus**
But listen—decentralize, or die.
No kings, no corps, no lie.
Blockchains, votes, local fire—
Power back to the street, no wire.
Cut the leash, burn the script—
We build our own, bit by bit.
They own the war—
We own the quit.
**Outro**
Wars end when crowds say no.
Not guns.
Not votes.
Just flow.
Decentralized—raw, unbossed.
That's the path.
That's the cost.
They built the future on your bones.
.....Now it walks,
....alone.
English
Humanity's been at this forever, pretty lies, comfort myths, gods the ruler's invented so that you can bow down into the dirt, so you don't have to stare at the dark and wonder.
But change?
Real change?
Starts when you stop pretending.
When you let the wound bleed, let the scream echo, let the nothing stare back.
That's why my songs works.
It's not pretty;
- It's a mirror, and mirrors don't lie, they just reflect the mess.
Keep it honest.
Keep it true
The world doesn't shift on hope alone, it shifts when people finally admit they're scared, broken, and still breathing.
Here is the new track(4.4.2026).
The Echo Of Life (VAH) #1.
Full lyrics under, because you won't understand unless you read.
FULL LYRICS:
The Echo of Life
Pede poena claudo.
You chase shadows—
they turn,
sink teeth in your heel.
You limp forward anyway—
blood trails like breadcrumbs
for whatever hunts next.
Your voice cracks—
lies spill like gasoline.
One match later,
you're the fire.
Burn slow.
Burn stupid.
Burn till your tongue's ash.
Love's a blade—
you swing it at ghosts.
It carves your name
into your own ribs.
Then twists—
just to hear you gasp.
I screamed at the void.
Void laughed—
then swallowed the sound.
Left me hollow,
echoing like a busted speaker
stuck on static.
Cowards crawl.
Beg for light.
Light flickers—
then blinds them.
Eyes melt.
Tears boil.
They thank it anyway.
Every heartbeat—
a fist to the chest.
Chest caves.
That's the rhythm:
your pulse
turning traitor.
Next beat?
A knife.
Next?
A noose.
Keep counting.
The weak ones beg—
"mercy"
from the great nothing
they named.
Nothing shrugs.
Nothing yawns.
Nothing keeps score.
No crown.
No throne.
Just your spine
bent backward—
because you bent it.
Now it snaps.
Now it laughs.
Hook (repeat once, slow-burn—voice like gravel dragged over glass):
Echo of life—
it's the scream
you choke on.
Echo of life—
swallow it,
or it swallows you.
You named the great nothing—
Allah, God, whatever.
Now it owns you.
You named the great nothing—
and it still won't save you.
You built altars
from your own bones—
it just ate the offerings.
Pede poena claudo.
It yawns.
Swallows the plea.
Spits back dust—
tastes like regret.
Regret tastes like copper.
Copper tastes like blood.
Blood tastes like you.
You stand—
arms wide,
waiting for thunder.
Thunder's just wind
through your ribs.
Wind whistles your name—
mocking.
Wind forgets it.
I punched the dark.
Dark punched harder—
left a hole
where my heart used to sit.
Now wind lives there.
Now nothing lives there.
Now I do.
Hope?
A cheap tattoo.
Fades under sweat.
Leaves scar
you pretend is art.
Art's just pain
with better lighting.
Every prayer—
a coin tossed
into black water.
It sinks.
No ripple.
Water's laughing—
quiet, wet, endless.
No god.
No devil.
Just the silence
you scream into—
till your throat
turns to gravel.
Gravel crunches.
Gravel bleeds.
Gravel's your new voice.
Hook (repeat once, slower—almost whispered, almost gone):
Echo of life—
it's the scream
you choke on.
Echo of life—
swallow it,
or it swallows you.
You named the great nothing—
Allah, God, whatever.
Now it owns you.
You named the great nothing—
and it still won't save you.
You named it twice—
once in fear,
once in rage—
now it answers
with your own teeth.
Great nothing—
you named it.
Great nothing—
now it owns you.
Great nothing—
now it's wearing your skin
like a coat.
Pede poena claudo.
And the penalty?
You...
in your...
Forever.
Ah, the venerable notion that pallor of complexion stands as the veritable apotheosis of anthropogenesis—a pinnacle of existential fortune toward which all homo sapiens might aspire with fervent aspiration.
One cannot but empathize with the purported covetousness harbored by those of alternative dermal hues, for surely the alabaster archetype excels in every conceivable metric: aesthetic allure, cognitive prowess, and corporeal dexterity alike.
Indeed, scholarly discourse has long extolled such hierarchical taxonomies, wherein epidermal reflectance serves as the sine qua non of meritocratic ascendancy, rendering all other phenotypic variations mere footnotes in the grand ledger of evolutionary preeminence.
How profoundly enlightening, this chromatic calculus, which so elegantly partitions humanity into strata of innate eminence, unburdened by the trivialities of cultural contingency or empirical equity.
And the penalty?
You...
in your...
Forever.
Pede poena claudo.
English
|𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉~𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑| ری ٹویٹ کیا
EU SCAM EXPOSED: Croatian MEP Mislav Kolakusic NUKES Ursula von der LIAR stating BILLIONS are sent to Ukraine while Europe drowns in inflation...and it all ends up in BLACKROCK’S pockets.
Europeans freeze and starve so Globalist Vampires get richer.
English
Last 📌
x.com/Strongwill3/st…
|𝕽𝖎𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖉~𝕾𝖙𝖗𝖔𝖓𝖌𝖜𝖎𝖑𝖑|@Strongwill3
Strongwillism (RAH) #8 Original Song - To understand is to evolve. Full lyrics: Strongwillism.. Forever seek it.. Verse One: Woke up cold, not floorboards—fear pretending to sleep. Mirror smirks, "you're fine," while fists shake like wet wire. Love? The greatest force. In existence. But it'll gut you if you hand it your spine. Power's a shadowed whore you wrestle blindfolded, teeth bared, and forge in the filth. Strongwillism isn't loud. It's the quiet when you stop begging the dark to leave. You sit with it. Let it chew your name. Until it spits it back at you—sharper. Verse Two: Love's the biggest gun—aim it wrong, it'll cut you clean. Hand over your spine too soon? You're meat. So stand first. Bleed into dirt. Let roots drink...... ....I branded my vow on a fractured altar not for echoes or empires, but the storm that consumes. Raw strength? It's the poison cock you ram down fate's throat, not the trophy you flaunt. Rise crooked. Taller. Teeth out. Strongwillism isn't loud. It's the quiet when you stop begging the dark to leave. You sit with it. Let it chew your name. Until it spits it back at you—sharper. Verse Three: I carved my name into the bark of a dead oak not for glory, but so the wind remembers that someone fights back. Not pretty. Not clean. Just true. That's it. Rain hits like nails—inside, not sky. Eyes wide in the black, whispering "hold on" to a rope frayed from my own grip. Truth's a blade yanked hot from ribs—cut free. Strongwillism isn't loud. It's the quiet when you stop begging the dark to leave. You sit with it. Let it chew your name. Until it spits it back at you—sharper. Verse Four: Strongwillism It's the scar you trace at night, not the story you tell, but the will that thought you how to fight. Shadows slink like old fucks —claw your throat. Eyes fogged, "give in" to a hole that eats you whole. But I twist the thorn deeper —spit into wind, let it burn. You wade through shit-smeared trenches, let the filth flood your pores, then erupt, bestial, unyielding. Might's a veiled cunt you violate in the gloom, claws unsheathed, and temper in the carnage. Resolve screams from the void dive reckless, and it shreds you to pulp, viscera smeared profane. Stand warped... ...Unbowed. Strongwillism isn't loud. It's the quiet when you stop begging the dark to leave. You sit with it. Let it chew your name. Until it spits it back at you—sharper. Verse Five: Truth ain't a light, it's a jagged cock you choke on—cough blood, you pull it from your chest, still warm, and use to cut free. Love calls from the edge answer too soon, and it drags you under, bones and all. It lurks in murk—grab blind, it'll fuck you sideways. I scratched my oath on a rusted chain not for gods or ghosts, but for the ache that stays. the echo of teeth on steel and the void you fill with fire. Strongwillism isn't loud. It's the quiet when you stop begging the dark to leave. You sit with it. Let it chew your name. Until it spits it back at you—sharper. Verse Six: Etched my curse on cracked skull—not saints, just rot. Dark as forgotten graves. No rhythm. No mercy. Nails on flesh. Abyss. Rage. ...I scorched my pledge on a desecrated throne not for phantoms or thrones, but the tempest that devours. Obscure as thorned veils. Profane as divine venom. ' No throb. No reprieve. Just the growl of muscle on marrow and the nucleus you claim with carnage. Venom sucked from wounds—not crowns. Claw through muck, lungs black, surge feral. Power's a shadowed beast—wrestle blind, teeth bared. Dive too deep? It rips you. But you rise—bestial. Strongwillism isn't loud. It's the quiet when you stop begging the dark to leave. You sit with it. Let it chew your name. Until it spits it back at you—sharper. Verse Seven: Behold, life's pulse, sand's sigh, star's spark, entwined in causation's shadowed maze, from ancient voids to quantum whims. Strongwillism Seize its whole: divine fate's whirl, bend its hidden tides with mystic might. Life's pulse—sand, stars—tangled in fate's dark web. Seize it. Twist currents. Burn. No pulse. No pity. Just the snarl of sinew on stone and the core you seize with savagery. In the gutted core, where tendons snap like whore's promises not the polished lie of triumph, but the savage rip that spills your fucking entrails. Eyes bloodshot from the abyss, hissing "persist" to a demon that feasts on your quivering flesh. Not noise. Not mercy. It's the growl when you stop asking. Strongwillism isn't loud. It's the quiet when you stop begging the dark to leave. You sit with it. Let it chew your name. Until it spits it back at you—sharper. Sit. Chew. Spit. Sharper. Strongwillism.. Forever seek it..
English
Eternal Pulse (KAH) #17
Warning:
- No room for sheep here, listen and you'll either stand up... or slink away ashamed.
English
Here's Meta for you:
Back in December 2024, Romania's court straight-up voided their presidential first round 'cause a pro-Russian guy blew up on TikTok, supposedly Russian bots pumped fifty-two million views, no real proof, but hey, "national security," so they canceled it.
Now fast-forward: EU flips the script, activates DSA's "rapid response" on March eighteenth this year, right before Hungary's vote on April twelfth.
They say it's for "disinformation," but critics, like Hungarian conservatives and Polish MEPs, call it straight censorship.
Meta's already throttling Orbán's posts after mass-reports from opposition folks, tied to that DSA pressure.
That is major election interference.
Platforms get threatened with fines if they don't play ball with EU-vetted fact-checkers, mostly funded by Brussels, so yeah, pro-Orbán stuff gets flagged while "Russian interference" claims (no hard evidence) justify the clampdown.
As I said:
- It's election meddling, plain as day.
They scream about foreign trolls, then do it themselves.
Hypocrisy at its finest.
Fuck EU, abolish it and its totalitarian leadership !
English
Look, you're all corrupt, Norway's ex-PM just got nailed for Epstein bribes, Ukraine's aid money vanishes into thin air, and yeah, Hungary's not spotless either.
But calling it Europe's worst?
That's bullshit.
Their score's forty, same as Bulgaria, while Ukraine's at thirty-six and still a mess.
We're all in the gutter;
- Stop pretending your team's clean just to dunk on the ones I like.
And I always pick out the winners...
English
Hungary is the most corrupt country in the EU. Its election is the best chance in 16 years of getting rid of its unscrupulous strongman, Viktor Orban. If the opposition wins, liberals everywhere should study what it got right economist.com/leaders/2026/0…
English
"That is not in our national interest."
- He means; Escalation in Ukraine is in our national interest but the national interest of the UK is not fighting totalitarianism, but to support it.
Clash Report@clashreport
Keir Starmer on Iran: This is not our war. We will not be drawn into the conflict. That is not in our national interest.
English
@donaldtusk The EU will soon be abolished.
It is totaltitarian and wicked.
Be on the loooooooooosers side if you think you belong there.
English
Hungary is and will be in the European Union. Victor Orbán and his foreign minister left Europe long ago.
English
EU's not subtle anymore, it's like they're waving a big neon sign saying "we're rigging this.
Brussels activated the Digital Services Act's "rapid response" just weeks out, EU-funded fact-checkers and NGOs now policing Meta, TikTok, everything.
Orbán's posts get throttled, Magyar's blow up with weirdly high engagement.
Polls from Soros-linked outfits push him ahead, prepping the ground for "he won fair."
English
🚨BREAKING:
🇭🇺 HUGE! Ursula's European Union is Interfering in Hungary's Election.
"This is a Giant Scandal and a serious interference in Hungary’s Sovereignty. We will NOT allow a Puppet Government to be Imposed on Us."
English