On Victory Day

 

On Victory Day

The bandura plays in ancient tones, its strings skilfully plucked, in such sadness strung,

Wretched songs played, the soul-destroying tunes, the heart of a nation, gravely rung.

The Rusky Rashist cloud, raided from the east, the curse of a nation, in darkness dealt,

Ukrainian names forever thought, written in blood, brave soldiers, on battle fields spelt.

One day, the tune will change, as the everlasting tide, and wind, herald a new world,

The Kozakiv will have, their glorious victory day, the weight of their nation unfurled.

Each day the Kozaks will dance with joy, and all sing, upon the demon’s graves.

Slava Ukraini! Heroyam Slava! Peremoha Ukrayini! Orky! Orky! - Orky! Orky! Hey!

With the Orky mothers, and their wives, left behind to lament, and rue each day.

They bravely fought, to free the world of Orcs, and all the evil Rashist handlers too,

To exterminate, the invading forces, from the sacred fields of sunflowers, and feverfew.

Defending their right of freedom, all the Ukrainian people, and their culture, full on,

Taking back, what is rightfully theirs, fighting on, until the day, all the Orcs were gone.

Pushing back, the brutal Orcs, who plundered, raped, and murdered, all the little kiddies,

Laying waste, to the homeland, and all the homes, in all the towns, and the grand cities.

Each day the Kozaks will dance with joy, and all sing, upon the demon’s graves.

Slava Ukraini! Heroyam Slava! Peremoha Ukrayini! Orky! Orky! - Orky! Orky! Hey!

With the Orky mothers, and their wives, left behind to lament, and rue each day.

The hopak carrying on, and on, day and night, picking up the pace, all hear the shrill

As Ukrainian soldiers, pack down the ground, each refrain getting faster, and faster still,

Spilling their Vodka, on evil Putin, and his deplorable Orcs, slowly rotting, six feet down,

Driven back to the swamps, from whence they came, suffocating, in the boggy ground.

The dirty stinking bastards, their rancid reeking carcases, the wicked bands, of beasts,

Down in the underworld, with the rats, and scavengers, banding together, in the feast.

Each day the Kozaks will dance with joy, and all sing, upon the demon’s graves.

Slava Ukraini! Heroyam Slava! Peremoha Ukrayini! Orky! Orky! - Orky! Orky! Hey!

With the Orky mothers, and their wives, left behind to lament, and rue each day.

Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET (January 2025)