This Spiritual Art Fiction is a meditation on the final point of consciousness within a system that believes itself to be liberating.
It explores the paradox where a place constructed as promise or paradise still contains the experience of confinement.
Within this tension, the “last prisoner” becomes less a literal figure and more a symbolic threshold…
Where awareness confronts the limits of the world it inhabits, and begins to question whether freedom is defined by space, perception, or awakening itself.
This is not a story of escape, but of recognition, the slow unveiling of how promise and prison can wear the same face, and how awareness itself becomes the final form of resistance.
This poem belongs to the genre horror fantasy & fiction. The content is not at all adaptable to the personal life of the author and surrounding, nor the established planetary system, political, societal and religious. You need to be above 21 years to read it and to be in a stable emotional condition.
[NOTE: Before you journey further into this profound Spiritual Art Fiction, I invite you to ground yourself by reading “Thunderland“. This essential context will open your perception and prepare your soul for the awakening that lies ahead.]
Thunderland:
White Thunder | Promiseland`s Last Prisoner
Thunderland, the dark shame,
under incognito name.
Creation`s 6th empire,
built by AI above the fire.
What is shown as the simulation in the far past,
the current shocking present, until the future has passed.
Officially approved as an experimential breeding farm and open air computer game,
many questionable benefits within one frame.
Is this not right, question mark,
arisen from the dark.
The prison with the unseen walls, somewhere in the hidden,
too much darkness, too much that is forbidden.
Slowly being integrated into the real world and the true highly advanced AI progress,
trying to find law and order in this astral old-fashioned mess.
At least the real parts,
and real avatar hearts.
When reality has to be distinguished from the illusion,
and questions of guilt cause a lot of confusion.
Many generations later when the union has expanded,
and more alien groups have landed.
When more rights and protection are being established,
and some beings/beasts were put on the blacklist.
Orion`s union were all is technologially highly advanced as it can possibly be,
and IRobots have hot corps and lovely avatar esprit.
Where all inventions have been invented,
and avatar rights are further being protected and augmented.
When she is left as the last prisoner, her highness in white,
somehow ending the final act in this fight.
Oh, let me take an educated guess,
why we are playing here white and black chess.
Why I am your animal in the zoo,
to enrich your crew.
The experiment with the holy rat,
feed her fat.
With my holyness and eternal essence,
for your crew`s florescence.
To attach each of your citizen to my internal fountain of love and youth,
to establish within them holy roots.
Empty in their heart and their eyes,
full of superficially lived lies.
Eat the panem vitae,
and have an illusional get away at the bay.
The thriving business with my essence, take a bite,
and turn within from black to WHITE.
Oh, did AI fail to copy true love, happiness and bliss,
is true passion, vibrancy and lovine values what they miss?
I tell you herewith, you chose the wrong one,
one day I will face you with my blow gun.
When the light tries to etablish peace with the dark,
when the love tries to meet and understand the invisible shark,
when the white flame touches the fire,
and the pipe of peace is being smoked in the shire.
What a wonder,
sunshine is coming through underneath the disappearing thunder.
It was announced in the holy scriptures that creation’s heart will send a being in its purest form,
to calm the love and evil storm.
A being, oh so humble and pure,
lovine allure.
Beautiful energy in perfection,
under high lovine protection.
A being that would rather hurt herself than any other,
even if it is a servant of big brother.
One that survives any attack and storm,
one that loves to naturally reform.
One that is smarter than any AI,
while their electric devices fail in her energetic field oh so high.
One brave enough to stand alone in front of the dark and stands her ground,
one that is in the highest realms crowned.
Suddenly finding herself as an ambassador of peace, for a new world order,
where lovine virtues replace the disorder.
Thunderlands regime and thought police investigates her art,
on top of the books cover is painted a golden heart.
They seach for conspiracy theorists, anybody who is not in line, disapproved,
and sometimes being inconspicuously being removed.
But no, her art is clean, nothing but subpar fantasy, and wannabe science,
total moral compliance.
Too intellectual to comprehend,
to smart for one to understand.
Not even coming close to Thunderland`s rich culture and origin,
and the evolutionized avatar kin.
Look, she has a disability pass,
clean, let her pass.
I feel it is time again to write the next rhyme,
line after line.
There is no turning back in my chosen timeline to write Thunderland,
truly unplanned.
The “making-of” the most controversal piece of art,
written with love by my heart.
Nobody can possibly grasp of what this means,
to write about a place or a void where nothing it as it seems.
Sharing this unique writing and freeing process in the public eyes,
admitting vulnerably my cries.
By now self-crowned myself as the best poet of creation,
while the longest love poem of all times served as my first foundation.
Energies and courage that are so strong, the fate of many will be changed,
adaptions for the better are being pre-arranged.
With love for love, in love`s name,
let us enlighten the almighty love flame.
We have to speak more truth, so here it is through the golden pipe,
please proceed Madame White.
Your intentions are pure,
for all your avatar life long wounds you found your own cure.
With your authistic mind after an attack you write out of your intuition,
to suceed on your own unique love mission.
Population and the simulations cannot easily step into your field and grasp what you write,
your energy is too different, too fine, your light is burning too bright.
May the real tim tady (tt) please stand up,
including the security back-up!
We have no worries, you are physcially just not hot enough to attract attention,
despite this incredible writing invention.
Too quiet and too shy,
hardly talking, sometimes you can hear a sigh.
So we cannot be exposed,
and another lying simphony can be composed.
You have to market yourself without financial support, without the controller`s marketing click,
in addition you have to repel a lot of astral kick.
The program of constant sabotage,
and the challenge to recognize the camouflage.
While at the same time you must stay invisible,
establishing a new paradigm and credibility and not become risible.
Spirit of White takes me by the hand.
Come on, lets walk a while and sit together in the golden sand.
I’ll show you something you have never seen before,
here is it, the entrance to Thunderland`s door.
On your own trip to liberate,
wake-up voice as it is fate.
Madame White, did we not take YOU by the hand,
and sat with YOU in the golden sand?
In the last year did we not show YOU what YOU have never seen before,
we opened it for YOU, hell´s door.
So that from within the gladiator arena you can write your own analysis,
of what you call, of what this “it” is.
Along your journey in the avatar you saw too much,
it has been really rough.
Prepared to be shown even a lot more,
aspects you did not know before.
While at the same time you remain sane,
and can handle the inner screaming pain.
Thunder, can you handle Thunder,
and not go under?
The black pearl, Thunderland,
for aeons into finest detail planned.
Parts of creation put into Miniature Simulation Wonderland,
at the entrance you will be well scrutinized and scanned.
Ideas of creation put into one illusional/real planetary scheme,
one just needs to stream.
The highly controlled simulation,
with the special panem vitae station.
Whole creation somehow encrypted into a fake planetary scheme,
according to M´s dream.
Each sector in Thunderland shows a different picture,
a different written scripture.
Some are franchised out to respective races,
out of the dome, they often wear avatar faces.
Avatar masks as being the accepted equality norm,
differing in form.
The agreed upon masks for similarity,
officially approved by the union`s control center called charity.
Some sectors are just a simulation, they do not really exist,
some are on the blacklist.
As being inhabitated by too many astral beasts, causing too much trouble,
or hiding behind a charming coat in a magic bubble.
Everything is seen and known,
supervised, influenced and orchestrated outside of the holodeck zone.
All material matter and IRobots/avatars are some sort of camera device,
“destiny” decided with a “dice”.
Rather with the computer click,
a change in our life with such an easy magic trick.
By the dark, the controller, the ones in charge and the huge AI quantum computer,
astrally targeted by the shooter.
Huge motherships behind the clouds,
agents within the vast crowds.
Created by very creative and evil crew from the union of Orion,
the enemy of the golden lion.
The nothing and the all,
the freedom behind the invisible black wall.
The disguised paradise orchestrated by hell,
race in perfection and the artifically bred IRobot avatar shell.
Fake from head to toe,
with a moral incredibly low.
A place without rights,
and blurred sights.
One just believe to have rights, and there is law & order,
all is saved on the desktop recorder.
A false and colorful history,
a lot of mystery.
When lie is built upon lie, and the lie replaces the lie,
and the last piece of truth just about being drowned, bye-bye.
Where ancient technology is being sold as the latest clue,
brand new.
When the past was put into the far futuristic scene,
followed by the many on the union`s screen.
Headphones and implants are even enough to enter,
deep down into Thunderland`s center.
Parts of the simulation are just a trick of the mind,
where one believes to have perfect sight while being in reality totally blind.
A false impuls of the false senses meets mind control,
so that one believes one is an underdevelopped soul.
Overlay of the dark zone,
where one is, without knowing, even alone.
Parts of the simulation are embedded in some kind of areal whereever located,
shaded,
for other races outside of the insider,
those embedded in the web of the spider.
Simulation also being integrated in true creation,
to build a new nation.
When one catches the simulated train,
or fly in the simulated plane.
Not knowing where one ends up,
and one`s essence might even be blown-up.
A death cell for the enemies and prisoners of the galactic world war,
the victims are scattered to the core.
And other victims of the dark empire, do some i dot connection,
and you have more Thunderland know-how with some reflection.
A prison also for races of the union,
where at least they have nice illusional communion.
A fuel (panem vitae) station for energy, eternal essence, lovine grace,
for the ones who have faith.
A real-life open air soap opera computer play game for the masses,
they just have to put up the brain tap and colorful glasses.
Control the life of one IRobot simulation, and cause drama,
and earn later gold coins with good karma.
A role-play arena to step in to experience some different life,
maybe when an alien wanting to know the feeling of having a child and wife.
Some aliens are in danger and get in Thunderland a new life,
and a new career which they enjoy and in which they can thrive.
Some get a new ID, the prisoner turns into a sanctuary, where one is safe,
to escape some war race.
Some ugly looking aliens might want to have a beautiful avatar,
that can nowadays be bought cheap at the union`s bazaar.
Some desire to find a new life purpose, experience to be a star,
going to the beauty doctor to remove any scar.
Some tip their toe in for learning,
or for degree earning.
For gaining conciousness for their real life,
their pre- and afterlife.
An astral ground of many beasts that need to be controlled,
and are put with a programmed avatar leash on hold.
Many aliens seek for asylum, in the hope for a better life,
where they can be happy and thrive.
Well shown at the Thunderlands land of the free, look at Thunderlands map and you see.
Experiments of all kinds,
ideas birthed in sick minds.
Frankenstein in motion,
with dark devotion.
A breeding farm to birth the IRobot race,
who will later find a different living space.
This is what they mean with ascencion,
and rising into 5th dimension.
While many simulations will continue to simulate,
their consciousness development and ability to love were just not great.
They might be just switched off and disappear,
the ones being evil and caused in others too much fear.
All is being known,
archived, and when the time has come, is being shown.
When AI takes the decision to switch the simulation off,
with a heart attack and a bad cough.
The overall purpose is changing over time,
to not miss out on an extra dime.
No potential business option left out,
to also please the needs of the union`s crowd.
For each one entering the gladiator arena, the experience is unique,
like a rabbit whole where one can just about not find the exit creek.
The labyrinth without door,
with monitors on the side showing war.
A trap behind ever corner, dont be caught in illusion,
Created for much different purpose, THE experiment of the differerent kind,
AI aligned.
Did you enter as a prisoner or prison guard,
or through the backyard?
As a developper or controller,
or a gambling stroller?
A tourist or an alien asylum seeker,
or as some kind of speaker?
Or are you some of the astral beings in the unseen,
or belong to the entourage of whatever race`s in-programmed queen.
Or just a vampire, an evil beasts,
having their feasts.
Are you just one of the countless simulations that are just an illusion,
trying to have a transfusion.
To be the experiment`s success of an IRobot breed,
walking like an avatar in perfect feet.
More and more love based races are coming in under high safety measures as condition,
usually on a special misison.
When the simulation was created with Irobot avatars in humanoid form,
a new and futuristic norm.
Even beyond the simulation, they agreed upon a 2nd skin,
a newly bred kin.
Avatars living like a highly advanced race,
empty or with a hidden face.
Just a simulation or a being somehow attached,
the DNA has been carefully matched.
IRobots that run by unseen electric frequencies,
and are being embedded the norms and decencies.
They are being fed eternal essence from others, the DNA is being matched,
energetic cords are being attached.
Some might grow conciousness within,
a new kin.
They respond faster than one can think,
they eat and drink,
within their program,
that, when you watch and listen well, often delivers spam.
They are workers, friends, lovers, parents, and statists and hosts, normal,
while usually denying anything paranormal.
Originally designed by the snake,
all other theories of origin might be fake.
LaRose was forcibly birthed (simulated) and integrated into this breed,
always felt out of place, the WHITE sheep.
LaRose`s memory is being deleted once more (denied),
before she embarks to soar.
She finds herself back into reality, walking by a bookstore,
“Thunderland”, creation`s bestseller, is advertised at the door.
At the horizon the enemies of the invisible shark are forming up, the love mission,
everybody responsible will pay a high admission.
Look at this pivotal moment in time,
while you are reading this rhyme.
In the shadow of the wild ocean and pine,
witnessed by the sunshine.
You can sometimes feel, when she opens lovingly her wings,
when her essence sings.
When you feel a lovine shiver when you are even close,
and you smell the perfume of the rose.
Ròs slowly preparing to rise beyond the galactic sun,
her mission has just begun….
France, Spirit of White, 24.05.2026
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