(Officium Defunctorum)
Yes I was once Mother Russia
but that is now a faint echo
Once there was hope
a communion of sorts
to rewrite the czars as equals
Only to end up, a century later
sitting in the office of the dead
with these dry and dusty
plastic plants.
Now we are engaged in a great
Ukrainian war.
But it is we who are dying,
soldiers wasted, future gone.
Who loves a clumsy bully?
And who does the killer really kill?
The stink of wrong is already here
at the gates of Moscow.
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