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Poem

How is it possible?
A flag colored of freedom, turns on brothers of old like Cain and Abel.
Stones turn to bullets as white flashes of a muzzle turn heads from blue skies to red rubble.
East to west one land greater than the next 
When forces 4 to 1 force fortitude under stress, The Ghost of Kyiv rises from his rest of unholy depths.
13 men stand in the face of reapers,
Calling upon death itching to feel its scythe cut deeper. 
Their eyes piercing of blue and yellow, like Spartans standing firm between the walls of Thermopylae, 
Even their leader steps out of the shadows to defend the honor their life paid to lay.
A nation damaged of radiation left in desolate desecration
Takes rise out of ashes to devastate devoted delusion. 
Free for 31 years, communistic plots plan to re-shackle through power and fear, 
Yet the will of these men and women prove their end is all but near.
As the world stands by screens laying witness to cries and screams 
Allies of distant lands bestow aid, stitching hope between broken seams. 
Archangels of east and west stand on her borders to heal and protect what has caused this tormented lest. 
As David slayed Goliath, they too, resist upon the hands of a giant, 
To act as a beacon of beckoning blight against barraging basilisks.

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