The Architecture of Collapse

Title: The House That Bled

“They didn’t need a hammer to break the cross... just a mirror and enough time.”

They built the altar, gold and glass,
Then sold it out for likes and cash.
Velvet lies in sacred clothes,
Kissing kids beneath stained-glass windows.

They drained the wine and filled it sweet,
With syrup smiles and sin on repeat.
Sold the silence, broke the bells,
Lit the candles just to cover the smell.

They called it progress, they called it pride,
But the roots were bleeding on the inside.
Took the shepherd, clipped his tongue,
Said "love is law"—then burned the young.

This is the house that bled,
With sermons painted red.
Where mercy was the mask,
For knives behind the glass.

They said, “Be kind,” while tearing down the frame,
Compassion used like fire dressed in flame.
They broke the sacred, soft and slow—
Now the children don’t even know.

They marched in robes, then stripped 'em bare,
Turned the pulpit to a stage for despair.
Confession leaked, defiled, unseen—
Just hashtags praying on a screen.

Preach love, twist lust, mask greed,
Plant the poison where the flock still feeds.
Saints in shadow, sins on show,
A choir of wolves with voices low.

They softened steel, they blurred the lines,
Made truth a relic lost in time.
Made wrong a right with softer names,
Then lit the match and called it change.

You didn’t see the war because it wore a smile.
Didn’t hear the gunshots through the gospel file.
Didn’t know the end when they dimmed the flame,
And whispered, “It’s all love,” while feeding the shame.

Not with fire... but silence.
Not with chains... but guidance.
Not with hate... but hugs too tight,
They squeezed the sacred out of sight.

This is the house that bled,
With sermons painted red.
Where mercy was the mask,
For knives behind the glass.

They dressed decay in robes of gold,
Taught children things the prophets never told.
They broke the sacred, pixel by pixel—
Now the gods are gone, and the chains feel civil.

“Amen... amen... and so it ends.”

The House That Bled

Title: Borders & Games

Yeah…
Not every exile runs from war — some run toward the throne.
Systems crack when the quiet ones clone.
Listen.

(migrant)
I ain’t cross for freedom, I crossed for a scheme,
Suitcase full of silence, ambition and a dream.
Smiled in a language I barely could speak,
But charm don’t need subtitles when your target’s weak.

Found her at the bar, told her pain-made me deep,
Played the refugee card, sold her trauma in sheets.
Planted roots in her belly, now she tied to my name,
She ain’t know love could double as a paperwork game.

Now I’m in the system, got a bed and some bread,
Talkin’ “family values” with a voice in her head.
But soon as I’m stamped up and legal, I switch,
Fly a bride from my past while I ghost this chick.

Hearts as visas, truth’s in disguise,
Built an empire off taxpayer lies.
Love ain’t love when it’s part of a plan,
Whole nations shift from the work of one man.

Children born in the cracks of the law,
Feeding on systems they never saw.
One turns to hundreds, streets full of flame —
Welcome to the sequel of Borders & Games.

(citizen)
She thought he was magic, a soul on the run,
Now she’s raisin' a child while he’s raisin' a son —
With a woman back home, same faith, same face,
And a welfare check from her country’s grace.

He don’t work, he don’t grind,
But he know how to sign on the government line.
Five kids, three rooms, housing he don’t own,
But the taxes I pay built his comfortable home.

They multiply fast, with a mission inside,
Schoolbooks shift, even flags start to slide.
Law starts bending, culture’s in court,
And the land that gave freedom gets flipped in retort.

This ain’t about skin, this ain’t about creed,
It’s about those who plant chaos from seed.
Love is sacred — but when used as a tool,
Even nations fall prey to the game of the fool.

Hearts as visas, truth’s in disguise,
Built an empire off taxpayer lies.
Love ain’t love when it’s part of a plan,
Whole nations shift from the work of one man.

Children born in the cracks of the law,
Feeding on systems they never saw.
One turns to hundreds, streets full of flame —
Welcome to the sequel of Borders & Games.

Not every war’s with a gun or a bomb…
Sometimes it starts with a kiss and a calm.
Peace fades slow when the game goes long.
And the silence speaks loud when the systems are gone.

Borders & Games


They burned the books,
But forgot we remember the stories.
They broke the altars,
But forgot we carry fire in our breath.

From World War Me to cities that sleep,
I fought in silence, while secrets ran deep.
They dressed collapse in velvet and gold,
Said, “This is progress,” while selling my soul.

I watched temples turn into tombs,
Prayers get filtered through corporate rooms.
Borders blurred and games got played,
Love used as leverage, hearts as trade.

They planted doubt in the gardens of grace,
Branded our pain with a beautiful face.
But even when the faith was fake—
I held a truth no thief could take.

This is my final inheritance—
Not gold, not land, not decadence.
It’s the fire they failed to drown,
The will to stand when all falls down.

This is the breath they couldn’t chain,
The voice that rose through flood and flame.
I am the echo of every collapse—
Still building back, no need to ask.

They fed us poison, pixel by pixel,
Sold us shame, but dressed it civil.
Said “be free,” but drew the lines,
Where silence kills and guilt defines.

They taught us hunger, then banned the seed,
Called us rebels when we dared to bleed.
But every scar was a secret map—
And every loss a bridge back.

I am the child of collapse and flame,
Raised by ruins, renamed by pain.
But here I stand with no disguise—
I own my blood, I own my rise.

They can’t take what we became,
From broken stones, we built our names.
The walls may fall, the light may bend,
But this is not the bitter end.

This is my final inheritance—
The ashes shaped into elegance.
The voice they tried to strip from time,
Now sings in battle hymn and rhyme.

This is the root they couldn’t pull,
The ember burning fierce and full.
I am the storm they couldn’t stall—
Still standing long after the fall.

We inherit not what they left behind...
But what they failed to destroy.


Final Inheritance

Title: Customs of the Damned

Check the crates with golden seals,
Not fruit, not aid—just twisted deals.
White dust under the flagpole waves,
And bodies move through border graves.

The dogs don’t bark if the collars shine,
They sniff the truth, but toe the line.
This isn’t smuggling—it’s choreography,
Where the uniforms write the forgery.

Contraband, in daylight hands,
Sanctioned silence, blood on sand.
They guard the gates, then let it through—
The wolves are dressed in navy blue.

This isn’t crime, it’s a business plan—
Written deep in the customs of the damned.

Papers forged in capital rooms,
The cargo sings in hollow tombs.
Trafficked souls with barcode names,
Brought in with oil and exported shame.

They raise alarms for small-time plays,
But blink when big cash paves the way.
You call it justice? That’s just the front,
While kids disappear in the shipping blunt.

Every passcode, every bribe...
Every oath was sold alive.
They write the laws in daylight tones,
Then bend them quiet behind the thrones.

Contraband, in daylight hands,
Justice blindfolded by demand.
You watch the news—they stage the play,
While planes fly in the darker way.

So light the match and mark the brand—
There’s truth buried in the customs of the damned.

Customs of the Damned

 Title: "Import the Vote, Export the Soul"

They built gates, not homes.
Signed names on borders they never lived in.
We watched our tongue become an accent
in the place it was born.

Check the census — it ain’t numbers, it’s war math,
Votes on a spreadsheet, hearts in a body bag.
Import the crowd, sell 'em a dream,
Just long enough to pull the power scheme.

Puppets in suits, play God with the map,
Culture’s on fire while they dance on the ash.
One flag up, but ten tongues fight,
My hometown looks like a blurred rewrite.

This ain’t hate — it’s a funeral hymn,
For the soul of the land traded in for a win.
Now the values bend, the crime climbs walls,
When the hungry bite back, who do you call?

📣 They import the vote!
📣 They export the soul!
We lost our roots in a powerhole!
📣 They burn the books!
📣 And write in gold,
But the ink is blood, and the story's cold.

And we wonder...
Why the silence feels like sirens.

They built monuments for names we don’t know,
Erased grandmothers with glass condos.
Language fades like torn posters in rain —
We're foreigners in lanes we paved.

It ain’t the immigrant, it’s the plan behind,
A political chessboard, not humankind.
They drag 'em in, no tools, no aid,
Then point when survival becomes grenade.

Crime ain’t born, it’s cornered breath,
It’s hunger with nothing but options of theft.
But we all drown,
When justice is rigged and culture is clowned.

🎤 Don’t call it growth if it guts the seed!
🎤 Don’t call it change if the roots still bleed!
🎤 Don’t build your throne on a borrowed grave!
🎤 Don’t sell my soul just to make your wave!

📣 They import the vote!
📣 They export the soul!
The future sold in a backroom scroll.
📣 We burn our truth!
📣 To keep them whole!
But I won't forget what they stole.

I saw my home turn into a translation.
I speak, but it echoes back in dialects of damage.
And still — I remember.
I resist.

Import the Vote, Export the Soul

 Title: "Crash the System" 🔥

Yo, the game’s rigged, Wall Street’s a casino,
Fat cats play while the people feel the heat though.
1% stackin’ stacks on a deathbed,
While nurses, farmers, broke with a thread.

IMF loans got nations in chains,
Austerity cuts like financial flames.
Kids in the slums, CEOs in planes,
They privatize hope and monetize pain.

Quantitative easing, stock price teasin’,
While the real-world wages? Freezin’.
Meanwhile, the climate’s gasping for breath,
But oil gets the money — life gets death.

🔥 Crash the system, break these chains!
We’re not your profits, we feel your games.
Rise up, wake up, hear our call —
This house of cards is bound to fall!

From Detroit to Delhi, it's all the same plot,
Workin’ two jobs, still barely got a shot.
Mental health crashin’ like the stock exchange,
Anxiety’s up — who can we blame?

Migrants run from wars funded by loans,
Debt got a throne and it’s built from bones.
Public schools gutted, water turned toxic,
But they bail out banks with cash so cosmic.

Blockchain buzz, but the poor can’t log in,
Crypto kings play — the rest can't begin.
Still, there’s hope in the grassroots drum,
A new world whispers, "We are the sum."

🔥 Crash the system, break these chains!
We’re not your profits, we feel your games.
Rise up, wake up, hear our call —
This house of cards is bound to fall!

💥 U! B! I! Let the people fly!
💥 Co-ops rise while the giants die!
💥 Local roots crack concrete lies!
💥 We ain’t broke — the system is, that’s why!

(“Decentralize… mobilize… organize…”)

Green finance, not fossil fools,
Sustainable streets, not Wall Street rules.
Regional trades, break dollar chains,
Build back better with people’s gains.

No more top-down trickle delusion,
We’re the movement, not their illusion.
From protests to networks, here’s our spin:
We’re not waitin’ for change — we begin.

🔥 Crash the system, break these chains!
We’re not your profits, we feel your games.
Rise up, wake up, hear our call —
This house of cards is bound to fall!

🔥 New world coming, built from truth —
Old empires fear the voice of youth!
Crash the system, light that flame —
We are many, you can’t name!

“Another world is not only possible… she’s on her way. And on a quiet day, you can hear her breathe.”

Crash the System

TITLE: "Broken Roots / Burning Truths"

They sold your soul with a barcode.
Your freedom's on a flash drive.
Truth ain't loud no more...
But I brought a mic.

They shattered tradition with glitter and screens,
Fed us fake gods in corporate machines,
Told mom to "get hers," leave the crib behind,
While the state raised your kids — now they don’t have spines.

Cults wear hashtags, preach like saints,
But silence you fast if you don’t think the same.
The family's dying, they cheer at the wake,
Truth’s on a leash, and love’s been replaced.

Governments preach with a smile and a plan,
While they bury your roots in digital sand.
We traded grandmas for grams and likes,
Sippin' poison, callin’ it life.

⚡We’re the ones with the broken roots,
Dancing on ashes in shiny boots.
They burned our truth with neon lies,
But we won’t go quiet — we amplify.
🔥*Ohh-oh-oh... No silence in this riot!*🔥
Ohh-oh-oh... This pain? We stylize it!

Feminism used to be fightin’ for rights,
Now it’s lipstick smoke and filtered lights.
"Torches of freedom"? Nah, it’s Marlboro dreams,
Selling lungs for pride in marketing schemes.

Masculinity’s toxic? Nah, that’s a trap,
You neuter the lions, then ask where they’re at.
Men are lost, told they’re wrong for breathin’,
While boys OD just to feel like they’re even.

Kids with pills, moms on reels,
Dads are ghosts, pain unhealed.
Lessons traded for agendas and feels,
Now we’re raising clay hearts with screens of steel.

⚡We’re the ones with the broken roots,
Screamin’ truth in the echo loops.
They sold the soul for clickbait gold,
But this fire in us? Can’t be controlled!
🔥*Ohh-oh-oh... This ain't surrender!*🔥
Ohh-oh-oh... It's a war cry, remember!

This ain’t left, this ain’t right —
It’s a soul war in the dead of night.
They divided us like files and views,
But we ain’t code — we’re walkin’ truths.

You want reform? Start with the core.
Family. Faith. Something worth livin’ for.
Not bots in bliss — but hearts that bleed,
Not chains in velvet, but minds set free.

⚡We’re the spark from forgotten days,
Rising up through digital haze.
Yeah, they broke the roots — but not the seed,
And now we bloom where the lost souls bleed.

🔥*Ohh-oh-oh... Reborn in the riot!*🔥
Ohh-oh-oh... Our silence? Defiant!

They thought they buried us...
But we were seeds.
Now watch us rise...
With burning roots and louder dreams.

Broken Roots, Burning Truths


I clock in clean, but the system's filthy,
Smiles in the hall, but they move real stealthy.
Jobs handed out like secret handshakes,
While the résumé kids get left in the wake.

They say “teamwork,” but it’s tribal war,
Promotion’s a mirror you’ll never score.
Nepotism got a corner office key,
While the genius in the corner’s told to “just agree.”

Truth don’t trend in a suit and tie,
But it spreads like fire when the fakes go dry.
Speak once loud — they’ll make you quit,
Gaslight your soul till your fuse is lit.

Corporate kills, but it smiles in emails,
Truth gets filtered, and power prevails.
Train us to nod, then ignore the cries,
But we bleed in cubicles, not in lies.

Burn the script, flip the scene,
This ain't a job — it's a guillotine.
We ain’t your pawns, we're gasoline —
One spark away from breaking the machine.

Favor over fire, and cliques over skill,
Watch the quiet genius get stuck on the drill.
“Speak up!” they say — but the trap is set,
HR’s just PR in a power vest.

Whistleblowers? Only when it’s safe,
Bias coded deep like it's wrapped in faith.
And the state? Just a mirror with a darker face,
Trading justice for a coffee break.

(Whisper) They train us to behave...
(Build) But never to believe.
(Scream) We were never the problem —
They just couldn’t take the heat!

Corporate kills, but it smiles in emails,
Truth gets filtered, and power prevails.
Train us to nod, then ignore the cries,
But we bleed in cubicles, not in lies.

Break the ranks, take the lead,
We ain't machines — we’re wild and free.
Justice ain't polite or clean,
It’s messy, loud, and finally seen!

This isn’t just a song.
It’s a resignation letter to silence.
We’re done waiting.
Now, we burn for truth.

Corporate Kills (But Smiles in Emails)

Title: What Is Law?


What is law?!
Is it justice or a job?!
Is it sacred or a scam?!
Is it truth... or just a brand?!

Boom! Boom! The sirens wail,
But behind that badge—the system’s stale.

Yo—what is law when the gavel’s bought?
When the courtroom dance is a power plot?
When cash flips the script, and the guilty grin,
While the innocent rot for somebody’s sin?

Politicians kiss rings and gangster hands,
While justice lies buried in no-man’s land.
Cops in Kevlar take off the leash,
But only bark loud when the boss says “peace.”

It’s a game of bribes and tribal ties,
Where religion and race decide who flies.
If you’re broke? You choke. If you’re rich? You ride.
Tell me, what is law... when truth’s denied?

What is law?! Tell me now!
Is it real—or just a vow?
Is it blind or do eyes peek out—
For a stack of green and a judge’s clout?!

What is law when the gavel cracks,
But the guilty dance and the truth gets sacked?
We scream, we cry—but they stall…
So we ask again: WHAT IS LAW?!

Courts wear robes, but who’s behind the stitch?
Justice don’t sway—it switches for the rich.
They shuffle the files, delay the case,
Smile in public, then sell your fate.

Judges tied to parties, bought in bulk,
Sworn on books they never consult.
They weaponize rules to protect the few,
While the street bleeds red in the name of blue.

Migrants blamed, but the real rot’s deeper,
Behind marble walls, and fancy speakers.
When power corrupts from top to base,
It ain’t justice, it’s just a poker face.


What is law?! What’s it mean?!
When the cops cut deals behind the scene?!
Is it order or is it theft—
When they guard the gold and jail what’s left?!

What is law when the streets go numb,
And the gavel echoes like a loaded drum?
Say it loud—say it raw!
We want answers—WHAT IS LAW?!

Not a code, not a creed…
Just another power feed.
From the slums to the suite—
Every cop, every seat…


It’s not the people, it’s the structure.
Not the badge, it’s the puppeteer.
Not the law—it’s the lawless who steer…


She once stood tall, eyes blind and fair…
Now her balance breaks under billionaires.
The law was ours… but now we crawl…
‘Cause justice is chained behind courtroom walls…

What is law?! Stand and fight!
Is it truth—or dressed in white?!
Do we bow or do we brawl—
For the dream that they let fall?!

What is law?! One last cry!
For the kids who watched their fathers die.
For the mothers jailed for asking why—
WE SCREAM TO THE SKY: WHAT IS LAW?!

Not a word... not a sound...
Just justice buried underground.
We ask, we beg, we claw and draw—
But still, no answer... what is law?

What Is Law?

Love used to be a fire, now it's just a flicker
We’re chasing dopamine… but the bonds don’t stick, huh?
Swipe left… swipe left…
We're losing more than matches…

We were raised on fairy tales and filters,
Soulmates sold with a thousand disclaimers.
Now it’s Netflix, chill, then ghosted—
Commitment’s a glitch, and the code’s corroded.

Social feeds feed our needs, but it’s poison,
Comparison kills, hearts break in the noise, man.
We scroll for affection, but touch gets delayed,
Got a million connections, still feel afraid.

Snapchat love with a 10-second timer,
Emotions outsourced to a digital liner.
We wanted forever, but got “seen” and ignored,
Now romance is a relic we can’t afford.

Where did the feeling go?
We used to burn, now it’s cold…
Is this the end or the start
Of a love we forgot how to hold?

Swipe left on love, it’s crashing down
We built our hearts on broken ground
Faking flames in pixel dreams
But real connection’s burst at the seams

Say we’re free, but we’re alone
Stuck in screens, no skin, no bones
Can we reboot what we’ve become?
Or has true love… come undone?

We’re DIY hearts with IKEA plans,
Building futures with unstable hands.
Cash rules every date and desire,
But we can't buy the spark or rewire.

They told us “be strong, love yourself first”
But healing alone can also hurt worse.
We crave deep talks and wild affection,
But fear real love, so we dodge connection.

Ghosts in the DMs, silence in the sheets,
Marriages collapsing in TikTok repeats.
Therapy’s trending, the trauma is loud,
But we're too damn proud to say we're allowed…

To want something more.
To stay, not explore.
To love through the war.
Not just when we score.

We traded roses for receipts...
Cuddles for convenience…
Intimacy for instant gratification.
What the hell did we become?

Swipe left on love, it’s crashing down
(IT’S CRASHING DOWN!)
We built our hearts on broken ground
(WE’RE LOST, NOT FOUND!)
Faking flames in pixel dreams
(NOTHING’S WHAT IT SEEMS!)
But real connection’s burst at the seams

Say we’re free, but we’re alone
(STILL SCROLLING PHONES!)
Stuck in screens, no skin, no bones
(IS ANYBODY HOME?)
Can we reboot what we’ve become?
Or has true love… come undone?

Maybe love’s not dead…
Just waiting for us to remember
That behind every swipe…
Is a soul hoping to feel something real.

The Architecture of Collapse

Floyd Santimano