Wretched Soul
Putin, Putin, yes I want you,
A marked man, with another few,
So busy creating your own demise,
Brazen, proud of your war, no disguise.
Putin, Putin you are going to hell,
And your marching clones, I foretell,
Will all, hear the sound of the calling bell,
For where you are bound, is no hotel.
Putin Putin, yes I want you,
A disgrace, is your heartless robot crew,
Inhumane cruelty is your only way,
The devil in blood he’ll want you to pay.
Putin, Putin you’re going to hell,
Hear me, your flesh will burn and smell,
You have won no war, you will succumb,
History will refer to you as infamous scum.
Copyright © Jennifer Proxenos | Year Posted 2022
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