Putin’s Train Wreck

 

Putin’s Train Wreck

In the land, where dark clouds, of misinformation, fear, and acidity pall,

Blind hatred has denied him shame; and guilt, the greatest wrath of all.

Whilst some strive, to leave a legacy, a righteous mark, upon the earth,

This heartless mortal, man of Mordor, has left his shameful stain, of dearth.

Spawning, his evil lies for years, creating a multitude, of mindless minions,

Sending his soldiers out, to execute, brutal attacks, on innocent civilians.

As monumental, miscalculations, keep happening, the disasters won’t abate,

His mighty army is floundering, and the alleged EXERCISE, is running late.

The armoured battalions, are incompetent, sure to raise, a drunken thirst,

Bogged down, just like sitting ducks, while Bayraktar drones, do their worst.

The C400 anti-aircraft defence systems, can’t intercept HIMARS rockets,

The T-72 tanks keep popping their tops and jumping off their sprockets.

He’s misled the West, and all the rest, and significantly misjudged Ukraine,

And his army, of second chance misfits, have derailed, his imperial train.

Raping, torturing, dismembering, and performing, revolting crimes of war,

As they go, beyond the realms, of evil deeds, to where, there is no remorse.

Still, he continues creating contradictions, issuing unreasonable demands,

And nothing, will save his face, with the blood, of his victims, on his hands.

The Russian people, are getting restless, they’re uncertain, what to believe,

But the state-controlled media, persist, in the evil web, that they weave.

Death’s curse, is etched upon Sauron’s lips, while his puppets warn, of doom,

All eyes are fixed on the Kremlin, that will one day, feel the rockets boom.

Obscure Destiny

 

Obscure Destiny

What is destiny won, to the grand illusions, by tyrants invented,

Brewed in the cauldron, of fear, and hatred, into minds fermented.

In lands, where freedom of thought, by condemnation, are subdued,

Within nations, where misery, and great pain, are fervently pursued.

Forced choice, an arduous resolve, toward autocratic decisions, made,

Blindly bound, to the consequences, of unwelcome misfortune, paid.

Existing behind cloudy curtains, hiding the truth, incurring a false view,

In parallel worlds, alternate dimensions, convictions fixed on a skew.

There, where wayward waters, of discontent, frequently rain upon,

Diluting, all the people’s dreams, into figments of the past, all gone.

When the people reach, the exact point, where all hope, is drowned,

They finally realise, choice, hope, and destiny, are together bound.

By faith, the tyrants lacked, righteous convictions, never possessed,

Silently bound, together in conflict, scorn, and in discord, depressed.

Born to submit, to live the lies, in hatred bred, to serve, the evil state,

Living uncertainty, herded like cattle, obeying each tyrant’s mandate.

Then one day woken, by banned words unspoken, and forced to rebel,

People rising from the ashes, sending the treacherous tyrants, to hell.

Putin’s Undesirable Pathogens

 

Putin’s Undesirable Pathogens

Like a recurrent plague, of pathogens, Putin’s hostile army, has ran amok,

Leaving heartbroken people, and precious lives benign, where they’ve struck.

Loading the atmosphere, with toxic carcinogenic chemicals, laying cities to siege,

Committing mass genocide, and killing harmless children, with mindless ease.

Blowing up bridges, blockading the roads, terrorizing towns, in their path,

Hurling large bombs, and missiles, as they create, an uninhabitable aftermath,

Littering the streets, leaving unsightly scars, where shattered ruins remain,

Then relocating elsewhere, to ruthlessly continue, their embittering campaign.

Heartlessly probing, seeking new civilian targets, trashing towns, in their wake,

Aggressively inflicting, unspeakable crimes, more suffering, pain, and heartache.

He leaves, bitter resentment, festering fury, and revenge, wherever he’s been,

His incurable mindset, against humanity, is wicked, grotesque, and obscene.

The Kremlin’s FSB agents, spread disinformation, and dissent, around the globe,

As they infiltrate communities, creating malignant spy cells, in their anal probe.

Like a cancerous tumour, his sickening appetite, out of control, steadily growing,

Putin’s grotesque cysts, aggressively swelling, to what end, there is no knowing.

At Wits End

 

At Wits End

Oh wits, I wonder madness, hath laid this awful weight, upon his heart,

In confusion set, and solemn sadness aroused, his spirits ripped apart.

Through his mind, thousands of sad thoughts, raging without restraint,

Of gruesome corpses cast, lying prone, encrusted in, their bloody state.

Of all the innocent people, their unpretentious lives, sadly inverted,

By one, who plays the devil’s advocate, with unruly power perverted.

Yes, he saw, the poor grief-stricken child, embracing, her parents stone,

Now left, without her mum, and dad, to bravely face, the world alone.

At the train station, a sad little boy, silently waiting, sitting in the crowd,

An ocean of faces, struck with disbelief, lost beneath, the terrible shroud.

With grief, and distress, set in their eyes, as they cast their vacant stare,

In anguish he turned away, the sadness, was too much, for him to bare.

Yes, he saw, the old man, about my age, lying dead, in the broken street,

His mouth gagged, with limbs tightly bound, boots stolen, from his feet!

He also saw, the young man, kneeling by, the black body bags, in tears,

Distraught, with the grisly sights, he’d seen, stolen lives, now in arrears.

Away, hidden from view, innocent girls, their purity, roughly laid, there,

Torn clothes, his heart sank, for what he saw, was way too much, to bear.

In pain, he could not restrain, the tears, welling within, his watery eyes,

As he imagined, how they had suffered, with no-one, to heed their cries.

The awful pain, they’d unwillingly endured, while being forced to submit,

To the ruthless conduct, of the wild beasts, before their throats were slit.

As he struggled with the weight of death, for each life, he couldn’t save,

He saw the sea, of grisly mounds, on the edge of town, of shallow graves.

He wondered cowardice, upon innocent men, executed, shot in the back,

The use, of powerful weapons of war, that had seen the cities wracked.

He saw more, than you can imagine, he saw the peaceful lives, unfurled,

He saw, all the horrific deeds, for he was the eyes, and ears, of the world.

Far away, he saw the wicked creature, that wrought misery, upon our kin,

Knowing the evil sleuth, that twists the truth, shall one day, own its sins.

Gott Schütze die Politiker

 

Gott Schütze die Politiker

The Kremlin, continues, to cast, its toxic spell, all across the land,

And, the state-owned media, remonstrate, with hypnotic hands.

Each day, weaving, a wicked web of lies, out across the nation,

Twisting, the honest truth, creating hatred, and disinformation.

The people, gather round, the promise tree, it bears bitter fruit,

All bowing down, to the crazy demands, of the heartless brute.

He’s like, an old organ grinder, grinding on, around, and around,

And the people, are all in tune, to the same old, same old sound.

As their empty souls, are filled full, with the sickly sound, of lies,

The poor, are neglected, and permitted, to lead their dismal lives.

His comrades, are in cahoots, collectively, they call, all the shots,

Forcing the people, to follow, the party line, filling in the dots.

The elections, are rigged, the Kremlin comrades, really don’t care,

They’re in stride, with dictator Putin, any conspirators beware.

He’s had rivals poisoned, or locked up, all hail, the wicked Tsar,

It’s a terrible mess, a shambles, outsiders think, it’s quite bizarre.

While the people’s needs, go unanswered, and poverty remains,

Living within the void, of broken promises, and awful hunger pains.

Putin’s secretly, ferreted away, the people’s money, he’s a patriot,

He’s stashed his wealth, all round the world, mansions, he’s a lot.

Still, poor Russian children, go hungry, they’re found, in ration ques,

They know, Putin’s empty promises, aren’t worth, two brass Razo’s.

It’s against the law, to protest, say wrong words, or question why,

There’s no point, in having dreams, he controls, their precious lives.

His sales pitch, has implanted propaganda, and hatred, of the west,

Pitting Russia, against the world, sending its sons, to their deaths.

He’s spent, a massive fortune, on tanks, ships, jets and missiles too,

The cannon fodder soldiers, are paid peanuts, uncertain what to do!

Sadly, he’s not, the only leader, whose line led, their nation astray,

Sending in troops, to blast, innocent people’s, precious lives, away!

Dieu Sauve L'humanité! God Save the World!

Hell in Mariupol

 

Hell in Mariupol

Putin is in control, he will not listen, diplomacy is no use,

He has programmed his people and set his Orcs loose.

The Ukrainian soldiers are defending, Mariupol Sea Port.

Beneath the giant steel plant, they are holding the fort,

Loyal soldiers of Ukraine, bravely fighting, on to the last,

Defending their land, standing strong, and standing fast.

Missiles and massive bombs, are exploding above ground,

The relentless bombardment, making terrifying sounds.

Bent steel, and broken concrete, providing a barricade,

There is no way of escaping, this treacherous blockade.

Like large hammers, pounding the earth, generating a din,

Innocent people are trapped, under the wasteland, within.

The civilians, hiding in terror, entombed against their will,

Trapped, in the tunnels, and bunkers, as time stands still.

Frightened women and children, being pounded from above,

By an oppressive regime, devoid of compassion, and love.

There’re wounded soldiers, lying with black festering limbs,

Slowly rotting, with urinary infections, and sepsis setting in.

And no one’s willing to end the siege, their minds are set,

Some are praying, for the lost souls, we will never forget.

But there’s little hope left, for the survivors in Mariupol,

It has been deemed impossible, without raising the toll.

The Shame the People Wear

 

The Shame the People Wear

You stole the sons of Russia, and sold their souls away,

Then brutalised their hearts and led their minds astray.

Your generals changed them, into Orcs, the savage beasts,

That bragged about, each rampage, at their drunken feasts.

You encouraged your Orcs, to execute, the shameful crimes,

And brutal acts, of genocide, well beyond your border lines.

As they, preyed upon the helpless, with shameless intent,

And left, a bloody trail, of devastation, everywhere they went.

With bloody stains, worn with pride, leaving victims crushed,

A shame, upon the uniform of Russia, a world within disgust.

Their lustful deeds, upon women, and young girls, abhorred,

While the desperate screams, of the innocent, were ignored.

Now there’s a bloody trail, all the way, back to Red Square,

To Putin, with his badly scripted propaganda, standing there.

Pontificating to his followers, the people who now live his lies,

Blind to the carnage, and slaughter, deaf to the victims’ cries

The old guard, is really restless now, turning in their graves,

For he cast his stain, upon the nation, in the victory parade.

God won’t have mercy, the dice is cast, Putin’s evil soul is lost,

A terrible stain upon Russia, for the souls, that paid the cost.

The world won’t forget, Putin’s name, upon The Wall of Shame,

We stand together, to remember, the lost children of Ukraine!