In the echoes of Ukraine’s broken streets,
The cries of mothers replace the lullabies.
Children learn war before they know peace,
And rubble replaces their dreams of skies.
A theater of power, painted in blood,
Where egos clash and empires pretend.
Yet not one soldier, not one soul,
Asked for this play that may never end.
Zelenskyy, the people's hope, now dim,
Your laughter...
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