The Glint of their Gold has Gone

 

The Glint of their Gold has Gone

The dull lustre of Russian gold, now cursed forever, in misery remains,

Haunted by the restless spirits, of the tortured, their suffering and pain.

Someone’s jewellery, that was stolen at gunpoint, by murderous thieves,

Beware of the shadow it casts, the terrible stigma, its suffering leaves.

Precious belongings, impregnated with ill fortune, of blood-stained loot,

Plundered from the dead, its dreadful provenance, a matter of dispute.

Tainted and tarnished, let the recipient beware, of misfortune it brings,

The terrible thought, that it came, from melted down watches, and rings.

Silver and gold, mined in dark cellars, and makeshift chambers of death,

From poor victims, who had been tortured, and robbed of their breath.

Dead women, and elderly, getting their gold and silver teeth wrenched,

So, a brutish lust, for perverse pleasure, and treasure could be quenched.

Don’t touch the ill-gotten Russian gold, with its unsavoury providence,

The soiled treasure that points, to the indisputable mountain of evidence.

It is bound to bring bad luck, with the wicked spells, that it now holds,

And sure to be cursed, and haunted, by the innocent lives that it sold.

As the ruthless soldiers, executed their brutal acts, time and time again,

Russian silver and gold now signify, the sadness wrought, upon Ukraine.