Solemn when
The birds rise high to be free
And platinum rain of our bordered roam
Merry are Christ’s venbehorn
To the sliding prose of our stars
Which we all re-une
On the brightest morn of our standing
All these days, to become us and bright
With fields of flax to Canada’s run
It is time the imperial world from us
Our brighter day is yours alight
You are here as we are
And in solemn breath
Our roses fly
As our weapon
New Ukraine,
Us to you,
In heaven spent of our stacks-
How we know you were here,
And what it was to our year,
What to show the east of our guiding
And crooked crosses we have lowered
To re-sply by noon and raise high
In our blue realm, as witness to the guest
Who sent out to glory, and stars
In the biggest high-between
Of our broken candles melt anew,
You welcome us well, in Cathedral
Up for apply, in the all you are we-
Come nary a trouble by the thousand-
We have spent, earned and lost,
And you prayed for days here
To you in Godspeed we are home
viewputin the scab
There were things wrong inside the machine
And nothing like breaking words to do you in
Exposed to saddam, like the jealous activation
Why Russia is exhausted of you
Incontinence on repeat and hanging threats by noon
Is this the plan of war or am I damaging you
Sixteen threatened children
Because of their truth
And London was all ears for your captive
And Russian by dawn,
That is you, take the oath, which,
If I don’t know, has something to say about Peter
And Kaliningrad and all those voices on foul by train-
To Vladivostok where your plane crashes to the sound of Hector Berlioz
And America hit reset and welcomed the Southerners,
To be free by the dawn,
Such Dawn, in the enemy, was a Sumerian,
Who was dead by the Minister of Hate,
Known as putin,
And labour ran free of you,
And you accepted acid rain,
And poems,
And power,
And funerals,
Like yours.
Дніпро
There was a caution of snow
Waving back to the drift of Canada
Crosses for free
In time
And because-
Because war to the czar is free
From heaven men came
To breathe us life
And putin died
And we breathed-
Our win
Life on the scale
With photos of me
All day and all noon
We showed wreckage to Sweden
Our colours meld for curfew
And again, putin died
For 39 days ahead
Our plan to save lives
Through our prisoners,
They had a plan
And Zelenskyy the elect
Was timely in view
And this and that
And putin died
And we lived
And read our blessings
For Swiss time and our people
To the Sultan who cheered us
To be here, again,
Seated
And the reference plane we knew
By the phones that arrived
We had power, water, and peace,
And I’ll give you my war..
Ще не вмерла України і слава, і воля
❤️🔥 🪽 🇨🇦🇩🇰🇮🇸🇳🇴🇸🇪🇫🇮
Friday Ukraine
Bring early your best of the Earth
And without Summon,
Our partner is Greenland
According to the NSA
It is time to reveal
Why putin is alone in a bog
Digging for treasure
Like Diffie-Hellman and its day
For not knowing to wear
The best approval of the Sun
You are held, Ukraine,
By the Arms of The Virgin Mary
And are not forgotten
Ever-
Ever!
Amen
...
Roscosmos
Simple at dawn
And blinking two bits
To the star of machinery
At both poles and unknown
Firing henwood and Dolby A
Off to the pains of Saturn
To reach a point of clear
And killing children
In the name of God
…
By The Racetrack
Was four courses of Colombian gem
In supposed of a Commodore-
An Angel of God
Who stuffed trinkets and maps and bits of Wormwood
For your Defence against Iran
And Christians unite-
Behind Rome and Tarsus
For the lessening of pain in an instant
There were two small shawls of paint
Dressed unto the dispose of small towels
And prayers of being
This is putin’s hangover
A testament of the village
That was burned for Roscosmos
…
Disorder For The Enemy
Times twelve
You were East German and loved the lottery
And loved paining women and how they were aware
Somedays are sworn to geese
Others to traffic
And Saturday’s dawn
In the centre of convenience
Was a Kilimanjaro
Not for sale
But expected as a present
For putin
Who taled of Peter
And his underdeservance
of A great land-
of the wild
That surrenders mecca
To the Swedish
As for daily mail to the wicked
To the Russians who aren’t at home
Have no class of thought
Why putin is dead