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Thursday, May 12, 2022

War II, Terzata #46

It’s possible to destroy even hell

And turn evil to dust

With the dropping of shell after shell.


What remains is one man’s lust

Mating with his own cold will,

Giving birth to blood and rust.


Each bullet or bomb’s a pill

That plugs a hole in his brain,

Which is still,


As is Ukraine,

Where a young child fell

And didn’t get up again —

Her killer dares her now to tell. 

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