“I want €uro, don’t pay Lira
It falls, more often, than my bra
In bed, be man, not Erdogan
Orgy for whom, ain’t, Allah’s Plan!”

“Best of, both worlds, between my thighs
The Eastern zests, and, Western fests
Half, Muslim grace, half, Christian vice
Yet a, pious heart, beneath my breasts!”

She played martyr, to my, every act
With a sigh, satire, and a propaganda
Never had, I slept, with a whore, with such tact
Who sold, me her, sardonic agenda!

More than €uros, I sensed, my soul spent
As she, observed Lent, for her, bleeding heart
Not bliss, it felt, like a sacrament
A Twilight, With A, Turkish Tart!

© 2020 Vikas Chandra