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Apocalypse putin

Your war is sold
Forever blind on the road
and in the year of cold
and mujahideen
Your hearse is being towed
At last to the Greek
In shame for four lives
Who roundedly count out the perfect steps
Were it murder you would know about
Introspection
And Falun Gong
And last pact at sea
But by air
And was nice not to worry
As you, “the great”,
Who didn’t believe in Tripoli
Or lines to Scandinavia fire
For the bored young columns
And most are at war
In Trinitarian by Doldrums
Asking for rent by reparations
This is the referendum
In season,
Lefthand you,
Spinning death to Oslo
And corner-judging your way to iconoclasts veer
We vote as we can,
Your mess is for grafting
And piles of garbage be-rot
Sycophantic flame
Eponymous spark and writhing new
This on dynamite and yours is fresh
Time lost and women spent
To Cuba or Wreckhouse
The flooring diamonds of sweet hell
Come to the street and burn it down
Your death is so and pre-esteemed
No-one makes it possible but you-
In your tent
And fires to Rome that fail
In case of solemn poor who will-
Who will kill you without fail
And in the wind ashes blow-
themselves to Moscow
As Kremlin fires burn your own hand
And forests new but of your petroleum six
Your mother sang
For the hands of a child
Who murdered free
And played with a pilot
Who’s forgotten your name
And is tired of war