You put in, too little too late

You said you’d send us aid, instead you made us suffer,
Under missiles and drones, we were never paid, to be blown asunder.
Meanwhile, the generals stayed at home, you made a nuclear bunker,
Where you could always hunker down in your air raid shelter.
The plans for war were helter-skelter, because, “they‘ll surrender
It’s a given,” they firmly said, “they won’t defy you, that’s for sure,
Rather than dead, they’ll simply comply and kneel before you, sir.”

Did you start to believe your own versions of Russia’s claim to own Ukraine?
Did your mind get frazzled by all the twisted perceptions around you
Of these old generals and cronies pouring poisons in your ears and brain?
Were you blinded by all the dazzling reflections that surround you
From ornate, gold, silver, crystal chandeliers and champagne?

Divorced from your wife, divorced from life too, lost touch with reality,
Forced to be an outcast with only a distant missing mistress memory
Of a lean supple gymnast who nevertheless spurned you, your palace by the sea,
Preferring the creature comforts and freedom of Swiss neutrality and secrecy,
While you were stirred to screw the bow-legged cleaner and got a daughter,
But they didn’t stay either, as you thought, so you went and bought her
A luxurious apartment above a casino in the exclusive Monte Carlo quarter.

And now to keep you company, in your tsarist Peterhof wet Black Sea dream,
Your scouts invite in plenty of local pretty whores compliant to every whim.
They’re checked of course, tested at length, first by your trusted team,
Before they’re released at night, aptly undressed for all their chores, it seems.
Spinning the casino wheel, sliding the seedy disco pole, striptease for the pissed
Specially selected well-greased guests, a few dozen criminal cronies at best,
Who still remain loyal, or so they profess, at least not yet on your Russian roulette list.

All you put in, you took away for that not so far-off rainy day,
To keep you and your friends alright, a just reward, as you say.
But you left nothing, not enough for the nation, not even for the war.
Nothing - just strings of party words, rusting tanks and boasts of might.
But an army needs more, much more than soldiers and money to fight.
It needs structure, order, food, weapons and some planning and foresight,
Generals who are ready to risk their own lives, stand up to tyrants and not hide
And reasons for soldiers to bravely obey them, even when it’s plainly not right.
 
No one else is to blame, only you, all you put in,
All is in your name and you took it all. The enemy’s sin?
It’s hard to see. They wanted to be free, as they had been.
But you took their homes, their past, their churches,
Their women, children and babies and their futures.
Nothing is sacred, except the acrid putrid halo I imagine
Shining above your head, glowing faintly from your arse.
Yet still the Orthodox Patriarch blesses you and God’s will.
A peaceful world broken in pieces, for your name to be immortal
And for sure it will outlast us, as an eternal warning to all.

© Самуил В. Новник 2023
© Samuel V. Novnik 2023