“War is, not your, comedy, Volodymyr!
It is, my most, trusted toxin
Why you, want to be, NATO’s martyr
And not, a puppet, of Putin”!
How vain, is war, yet, the only way, out
Of this, estrangement, of, ethoses
Both brothers, know, beyond any doubt
There’s, no end, to their pathoses!
More wives, widowed, more mothers, bereaved
Pay in, pious pain, price of, Putin’s pride
Fear, will be, their faith, who had, believed
With, Soviet fall, Russian apartheid, too died!
Who lost, two realms, while world, looked on
Counts, in coffins, NATO’s, love-souvenirs
Seeds of, new age, of hate, are being sown
In This War, Between, Two Vladimirs!
© 2022 Vikas Chandra