Within the Alchemy of Evil Spells A Tear Fell

 

Within the Alchemy of Evil Spells A Tear Fell

As Putin dared, to stare into Satan’s eyes, Satan glared right back at him,

Bewitched, by the ancient legend, of Pandoras box, its wicked spells within.

He knew, he must possess, the power of the box, to control each evil spell,

To steal all hope, from within men’s hearts, and in its place, implanting hell.

As deep desire swelled inside, growing ever stronger, his ugly tumor burst,

Envy and greed, bred by all the bitterness, and resentment, set in the past.

He mustered disharmony, disease, pestilence, war, and crimes of genocide,

And masked the awful crimes, he had his army do, with all truth nullified.

Slashing and shredding humanity, undeterred by the thought of The Hague,

Innocent civilians, murdered in distant lands, where spread his rotten plague.

As the cities of Ukraine were wracked, with a dreadful symphony of sound,

By missiles, and drones, he sent, the poor citizens pounded, into the ground.

Revenge evoked, by aftermaths, festered in many nations, around the world,

But the wrath of death, he had seeded, rebounded back, suddenly unfurled.

In memory of, awful sounds of sirens, each time hells gates, had opened wide,

Torrents of blood, weighing on hearts, eternal flood of tears, that never dried.

Each country the plagues of fear, had burst their banks, into tempest cried.

Endless heartache, from towns and cities, where rivers of grief had flowed,

It was more than likely, that sooner or later, Putin’s world would implode.

As the free world stood by, and watched the crisis, fearful of an apocalypse

Revenge he bred, in the dark world of terrorism, bore retaliation on its lips.

And now the foundations of hell, have been uprooted, by an unwelcome sod,

A drop of blood fell, as if from the sky, many thought it, the wrath of God.

To serve as warning, of much more to come, in penance, of all of Putin’s sin,

There in the kingdom of lies, it fell at Crocus Hall, the tragedy felt within.

At an unlikely time, a crowded place, within the capital of terror, and lies,

The masked intruders, all cloaked in darkness, four extremists in disguise.

On this mixed day, disease, pestilence, and war, returned to Putin’s door,

When all the madness, that he had crafted, returned to Russia’s shore.

Written By: Alan.Clark@WW1POET (March 2024)