Death Epics From His Poison-Pen


Communism, cherished curse, Democracy still, a dream
Stalin, lives on, in, Vladimir Putin
New Russian God, would you, dare to blaspheme
Condemning Kremlin, is, next to, sinister sin!

Those lethal labs, still invent, death
Which Soviet tyrants, had farmed, to finesse
To starve dissidents, of, every damn breath
Is King Putin’s ploy, in Political, Power Chess!

Yushchenko, Skripal …, and now, Navalny
Are vain martyrs, of a, long-lost war
Decadence, is the lasting, Russian legacy
Debauchery, is where, power’s, only metaphor!

Has embraced inertia, coldest corner, of the world
Which is, reigned and run, by heartless henchmen
Putin ain’t first, nor the last, to word
Death Epics, From His, Poison-Pen!

© 2020 Vikas Chandra

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