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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

putin 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